Love Thy Neighbor
by Ceridwen Lucius
Summary: Bakugo and Deku have a new neighbor. None of them are sure what to think about each other at first. A friendship forms quickly leading to something more, much more, for all three of them. Vive l'amour! NOT yaoi! Female OC. Polyamorous
1. The New Neighbor

Author's Note: Hi, everyone! I had a plot bunny hopping around and since Valentine's day is coming up I decided to type it up and let it run. The separations indicate not only a switch in perspective but also a passage of time. So I hope you like it. Please enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Title: **The New Neighbor**

* * *

"Hey, Deku! I'm going to the gym!" Bakugo yelled, positioning the strap of his heavy gym bag diagonally across his chest.

"Don't be late for work!" Deku called back to him from the bathroom where he was cleaning.

"What are you?! My wife?!" he shouted in return, mad as a hornet already.

Izuku Midorya was most certainly not his wife - or his husband or his boyfriend. He was his roommate and an overprotective, fussy, old womanish best friend. Deku had been his best friend since UA, all the way through the grueling work study programs and internships, until they both finally became professional, licensed heroes.

"No! I'm just - "

"I'm outta here!"

Bakugo shoved open the door and stalked out only to nearly be bowled over by a man carrying a large, obviously heavy, box. The man with the box was on a mission and would not be deterred so it was up to Katsuki to get out of the way.

"What the hell..." he muttered, hugging the wall in order to not get ran over.

Shifting the strap of the gym bag, he started off again. His progress was once again halted as two men, both carrying large moving boxes, met him at the top of the staircase. Sighing in exasperation, he backed up and leaned against the railing while waiting for them to pass.

Looking out into the parking lot, he saw the big white moving truck with a fourth man at the back hauling out another box. Before that man could reach the stairs, he hurried down them, taking them two at a time, to be on his way. As the man passed him, he glanced up to see the other three coming out of the apartment next to his and Deku's.

"Oh, great," he muttered to himself. "A new neighbor."

Damn. It had been so nice not having to deal with a neighbor. Living on the end in the corner apartment, they shared only one wall with a neighbor, but it was still inconvenient as fuck.

For three months, there were no annoying sounds at all hours of the day. No gross cooking smells. No snot nosed brats knocking on their door to aggravate them. No thumping and bumping and things that go 'I'm coming' in the middle of the night. That shit was particularly annoying.

"Ugh," he groaned. The three months of blessed peace and being neighbor free had regretfully come to an end.

~\\..'../~

* * *

Takara Otani parked her car in the middle of the apartment complex parking lot facing the back of the building. So this is her new home. For several minutes she stared at the four story white rectangle with black metal railings lining the open corridors and staircases laid out in aesthetically pleasing symmetrical horizontal and diagonal lines. Supposedly there is a pool on the roof. The place looked nice enough.

Taking in a lengthy breath then releasing it in a wheezing sigh, she grabbed her purse and made her way to her second floor apartment. Her door was second from that of the corner apartment. She had neighbors on both sides. Fantastic.

There was a key pad on the wall beside the door and no place for a key on the push down door handle. Rifling around in her purse, she grabbed her phone to get the code her manager had texted to her along with the address of the apartment he rented for her.

A door opened to her left drawing her attention. The neighbor from the end apartment stepped out carrying a bag of trash. He appeared to be in mid twenties with short but messy dark green hair and eyes to match. Freckles dotted his cheeks giving him a sweet little boy look.

"Hi," he greeted her, raising his hand and wiggling his fingers in a little wave.

_So cute!_, she thought. Takara found herself smiling at him with a big, idiotic grin on her face. She chastised herself that he was a human being not a puppy and a grown man to boot.

Clearing her throat and wiping the stupid grin from her face, she gave him a friendly smile. Getting a grip on herself, she rejoined with a simple 'hello' foregoing the wave.

"My name is Izuku Midoroya," he introduced himself. "Welcome to the neighborhood."

"Thanks. I'm Takara Otani," she returned. "Is there really a pool up there on the roof? I couldn't see anything from the parking lot."

"Yeah. It's there. There's also a hot tub and a picnic area with a grill area as well. It's pretty great. I can take you on a tour of the building if you would like," he offered.

"Oh, yes, please. That would be great!" she exclaimed enthusiastically.

"Let me just take this to the trash bin," he said, indicating the bag in his hand.

"Well, actually, I think I'll go with you. I'll need to know where that it is anyway, right?"

"I suppose so. I guess we'll start the tour. Follow me."

Takara dropped the phone back into her purse. She followed him down the stairs and around the side of the buildings where a row of dumpsters and recycling bins were hidden behind a ten foot privacy fence.

"The bottom floor of the building is a storage area. There's a space set aside for each apartment if you need to store anything," Izuku informed her pointing at the door beside the garbage enclosure. "The laundry facilities are down here as well."

"How long have you lived here?" she asked as they began the climb back upstairs.

"About five years. My buddy and I moved in after getting our first jobs. Having a roommate to share expenses with is a necessity nowadays," he said, bypassing their apartments to go to the stairs at the end of the open corridor leading up to the next floor.

"That's true. I don't have a roommate. I guess that makes me lucky. But it does get lonely sometimes," she admitted, as they made their way to the roof.

_But then again, most of the time I'm too busy to be lonely, _she thought to herself.

"Takara Otani," he murmured aloud to himself. "Why do I recognize that name? You must make a lot of money to live alone. Are you someone famous? Hmmm...but why would you be living here? I'm sure you could afford a much nicer place. That name sounds so familiar...but I just can't place it."

Takara listened to him ramble. At first she feared he might be a little off in the head. Soon she realized he was simply sorting through his thoughts aloud so she did not interrupt. He might figure it out soon. She was famous in certain circles.

Being a performance cellist, both solo and in orchestras, she was known only among those who avidly followed classical music. Otherwise she was completely unknown on a larger celebrity scale.

Having a small and exclusive fan base had its perks. She could go anywhere without getting mobbed or photographed. The people who did recognize her were respectful and polite. She had no idea how idols did their job with their crazed fans lurking around every corner.

Also her music paid the bills - and quite nicely - offering her a modicum of luxury without being extravagant. She lived in a one bedroom apartment without a roommate. And this place even had a pool.

They stepped out onto the roof. The white cement rectangular pool was situated in the middle of the rooftop. A smaller square structure, the hot tub, was connected to it at one end. Nothing fancy but functional. Just like the building itself.

Black metal lounge chairs with white cushions and black metal grated tables with matching chairs surrounded the pool. There was a covered pergola in the corner with a complete outdoor kitchen including a grill, a sink, and other basic amenities found in a regular kitchen.

"Oooh, that's incredible," she murmured, walking over to get a closer look.

"Yeah. It's almost better than the kitchen in the apartment. But of course there's only one like this so I guess they were able to splurge a bit," Izuku said, following behind her.

There was a cook top with four burners attached to the massive grill. There was a sink with hot and cold water. There was even a small refrigerator! The big metal basin in between the refrigerator and sink could be filled with ice and drinks. There were wooden prep tables and a chopping block.

Takara looked out across the roof to see an unhindered view of the city.

"Wow...this is amazing. Simply amazing," she murmured. "I think I'm going to like it here... just because of the rooftop alone!"

They shared a short chuckle.

"The view of the city at night from the rooftop is absolutely breathtaking," Izuku said as if reading her mind. "It's also pretty up here at night because there are tons of little fairy lights strung all over the place. It can be quite romantic."

Fairy lights? What grown man says fairy lights in reference to the tiny white Christmas lights people used for general decorating all year long? This guy named Izuku Midoriya. She liked this guy. What could his roommate, his best friend, be like?

"Hey, I have an idea. Why don't you and your friend meet me up here tonight? We can grill and drink and swim," she suggested, getting excited over the idea. It would be a fun way to get to know her new neighbors and better than an awkward meet and greet in one of their apartments.

"That sounds great!" he exclaimed, sounding as excited as she felt. "Why don't we go to the grocery store together? You'll need to know where that is too."

~\\..'../~

* * *

When Bakugo returned home from a fabulously uneventful day at work, he walked into an empty apartment.

"Yes!" he shouted triumphantly, tossing his gym bag into the corner of the foyer.

He needed to go downstairs to wash his clothes, but it could wait. He had been given the gift of time alone and far be it from him not to accept that gift. His supply of clean clothes was running low and man would those workout clothes stink by the time he got around to washing them but whatever.

Kicking off his shoes and throwing off his shirt, he crossed to the living room to go straight to the entertainment center. There was a note taped to the doors behind which lay his game system. Snatching it off, a sinking feeling weighed down his belly as he began reading.

_Change into your swimming trunks. Come up stairs and meet the new neighbor._ The note from Deku advised him. At the bottom was scrawled a tiny postscript: P_.S. There's beer!_

"Fuck," he muttered. So much for getting a few hours of game play without being told to be quiet.

Bakugo did as the note suggested. After putting on his black swim trunks with the flames on the bottom, he grabbed a towel and headed up to the roof. As soon as he stepped out onto the cement covering the rooftop, he heard laughter - the laughter of a woman.

Oh, joy. The neighbor is a woman. That meant boyfriends and fights and drama galore. So far all he could see of her was long, wavy black hair that almost reached her waist. She wore a red skirt covered in large white hibiscus flowers and leaves. Or was it one of those thingies...what are those things called? Well, whatever, it was most likely something she was wearing over her swimsuit.

Setting his face in a scowl, his teeth firmly clenched, he approached the gazebo where Deku and the woman stood talking and laughing. She turned to face his roommate holding a frosty brown bottle in her hand while he nursed a soda. A grown up and still wouldn't take a single fucking drink.

"Oh, here he is," Deku said when he saw him. "Hey, Kacchan! Over here!"

"Goddammit, Deku," Bakugo muttered under his breath. "I see you! How many fucking places could you be up here?"

"Oooh, he's a charmer," he heard the woman say to Deku.

Bakugo's angry eyes shifted to her. She was the same height as Deku, built curvy and solid. She wore a strapless red bikini top that tied in between her generous and heavy looking breasts. Her belly was flat despite the voluptuous width of her hips below her narrow waist. She did have a good hourglass shape.

His eyes moved upward to her face to see her eyes were scrutinizing him as hard as he was her. Her almond shaped eyes roamed down to his feet then back up to meet his. The irises were gold; not just yellow but a brilliant almost glowing molten gold color. She looked like a humanized black cat. A sleek, pampered black house cat.

Reaching into the basin of ice, she pulled out a bottle of beer. Using her bare hand, she twisted off the cap. Apparently she did have some muscle. Extending her arm toward him, she invited him to join them and take the beer.

"Thanks," he said, reaching for the proffered beer.

The tips of his fingers brushed along the backs of her fingers as he took the bottle out of her hand. Surprisingly, she did not flinch away from the unexpected touch like most women would have with their excessive sense of modesty and propriety. He found some women's shyness to be coy bullshit hiding a very dirty mind and even dirtier intentions.

This woman confidently met his gaze without a hint of coquettishness or flirting. Just a steady, even gaze with possibly a hint of curiosity.

"Kacchan, this is Takara Otani," Deku announced to introduce her.

"Takara Otani? The cellist?" Bakugo asked, recognizing the name.

She choked on her beer. Obviously she did not think an uncouth cretin like him would recognize her because she is an elite musician. He actually had several of her songs downloaded into his workout playlists. She played both classic and modern pieces. She gave the classic pieces a new life, adding faster tempos and picking up the pace to make them more modern. She scaled back the modern songs to impart a classic sound. Nothing extraordinary or new in the world of music but he liked her style.

"How do you know who she is?" Deku questioned him, genuinely astonished.

"Despite what you might think, I did not just crawl from under a rock or slouch out of a cave this morning," Bakugo shot back.

"Are you sure about that?" she retorted, arching a dark eyebrow questioningly.

"Lady," he growled, straining with everything he had been taught to hold his temper. "You don't even know me well enough to try to insult me."

"I wouldn't dare," she returned, the three words heavy with sarcasm. She stuck out her hand as if requesting a handshake. "Nice to meet you, Kacchan."

He took her hand, squeezing it. She did not wince nor did the smile on her face waver as he continued adding pressure. "You can call me Bakugo."

She squeezed back, compressing his hand until he would swear he felt the bones move deep in his hand. He gritted his teeth, stubbornly holding the cold stare from her deceptively warm honey colored eyes while her hand continued crushing his. Apparently holding onto that bow required more strength than he thought.

"Nice to meet you, Bakugo," she said, letting go of his hand. "You like meat, Caveman?"

"Of course I do," he rejoined, taking a long draw from the frosty bottle and letting the unwanted nickname go. He had kind of asked for that one.

"Good. We've got plenty. Your friend here is a good cook. You don't know how lucky you are," she told him, picking up a piece of grilled steak from the platter where Deku put it after removing it from the grill. She held it out to Bakugo. "Say aahhh..."

"No, thanks. I can feed myself."

Stepping forward, getting so close to her he could feel her body heat but not touching her, he reached around her to pick his own piece of steak from the plate. After moving back, he crammed it in his mouth. She ate the piece held between her fingers.

"So what brings you here, Miss Hoity Toity Musician? Decided to slum it with the common folk?" Bakugo asked, leaning against the chopping block behind him.

"I guess that's fair. I made a rude assumption about you, now you're making one about me. Touche," she muttered, raising her beer bottle in a salute to him.

"Are you two going to fight all the way through dinner?" Deku asked, turning the chicken kebabs. "We're all going to have indigestion if you do. Come on. Let's have a good meal and some fun. We're going to be neighbors after all."

"Wanna go for a swim?" Bakugo asked her.

Takara put down her beer and untied her sarong. The red swimsuit bottom tied with big red bows on her full hips.

"Race you," she challenged, dropping the cover up where she stood.

Pivoting on her heel, she took off in a full run toward the pool. Holding her hands above her head, hands together and fingers pointed, she dove into the water. Her body sliced through the blue water with ease and grace.

"She's beating you," Deku warned him, knowing he could not resist a challenge.

"Shit," Bakugo growled, taking off like a bullet shot out of a gun.

When he got to the other end of the pool, he broke above the surface huffing and puffing. She stood there leaning against the side of the pool with her elbows casually propped on the cement apron behind her.

"You had a head start," he grumbled as she smiled him, a lazy, arrogant grin.

"I know. But you should always be prepared for the unexpected," she returned.

He growled like an angry dog. She sounded like one of his mentors when he was in training. He placed his hands on the side of the pool and lifted his body out making sure to sling as much water as possible on her. She held up her hand as if that would save her from the shower and laughed.

Bakugo retrieved his beer and fresh one for her. When he turned back around, he saw her lowering her body into the hot tub. Perfect. He went to join her. A good long soak would be great after a hard workout this morning then a long, boring patrol during his shift at work. Sometimes being a hero was positively mind-numbingly boring.

"Here," he said gruffly, shoving the beer bottle in her face.

"Thanks," she responded, taking it from him.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Bakugo boldly inquired sending her into another coughing fit after she inhaled her sip of beer in surprise.

"N-no...I d-don't." She paused to allow another fit of wheezing coughs to pass as she tried to eject the fluid she inhaled from her lungs. "Why? You offering?"

"Hell, no I ain't offering," he shot back vehemently. "I was just wondering how much noise and bullshit we are going to have to deal with."

"Oh, I see," she murmured, chugging her beer. "I'll be as quiet as a mouse."

Somehow he doubted that. Takara Otani is a musician after all. But he would not mind listening to her play her cello. It would be like having his own private concert. Having her as a neighbor might not be so bad after all.

~\\..'../~

* * *

An ear splitting screech woke Bakugo out of a dead sleep. What the hell was that? Was that woman screaming? Laying in his bed, every muscle taut as a board, he listened and waited. Another straining shriek.

He jumped out of the bed and rushed out onto the balcony to look around. When his head rotated to the right, he saw her sitting on her balcony. The blinding early morning sun formed a halo around her entire body. She was sitting in a straight backed white wooden chair, the massive glossy cello held firmly between her knees. Her fingers nimbly turned the pegs and plucked at the strings.

"Holy shit," he sighed.

That awful sound was her tuning her cello. His fingers gripped the thin black metal railing until his knuckles turned white. She seemed completely unaware of his presence as she continued the tuning.

Her long hair covered half of her face. The eye he could see was closed making him realize she was tuning the instrument purely by sound. Studying her, he watched the muscles in her arms writhe under her skin with each movement. She was very toned.

Shifting in the chair, the white cotton nightgown gathered up to her thighs shifted higher revealing more of her legs. He could see the black lines of the beginning of a tattoo there. How far up did it go and what was the design? He shook his head. Why the fuck did he care?

Takara reached up, tossing her hair back over her shoulder to reveal her face. Keeping her eyes closed, she lifted her face to the newborn sun while raising her bow and placing her other hand high on the neck, her fingers resting on the strings. She began to play.

Low, sad strains poured out into the air. They rose slightly then fell again. Closing his eyes, Bakugo saw the color blue. Nothing else - just the color blue: a dark, almost black hue like the night sky.

She continued to push and pull the bow, the notes getting faster, higher. The color lightened to a royal blue, the color of the deepest parts of the ocean. The speed and volume flowed in and ebbed away like ocean waves. The sound was soothing. The tension in his body began to drain away. A little bit more stress got carried away with each downbeat. His fingers loosened on the railing until his hands dropped down by his sides.

As the last of the tension fled from his shoulders, Bakugo opened his eyes. Takara sat in the chair, bow still poised to play but not pressed against the strings. The tears on her cheeks glistened in the early morning sun. As corny and stupid as it sounded, she looked like an angel to him, almost glowing.

Deku stepped out onto the balcony from the living room. Puzzled, he stared at his friend then followed his line of vision over to Takara then back to him.

"Hey, Kacchan, what - "

Bakugo pressed his finger to his lips as a silent sign for him to be quiet, but Takara must have heard. Her eyes fluttered opened then turned to them.

"Oh, hi, guys," she greeted them. "Did I bother you? I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't apologize, please. That was beautiful," Deku complimented her sincerely.

_Damn, Deku. Why do you always have to be so fucking nice?_, thought Bakugo.

"Thank you," she returned, lifting the cello from the ground as she stood.

"Would you like to come over for breakfast?" Deku asked.

_I'm going to fucking kill him,_ Bakugo's inner voice swore. _Just because she's our neighbor doesn't mean she had to become a major part of our life._

"Oh, no. I can't. I actually need to be at the music conservatory in an hour. I have an upcoming concert. Would you two like to come? I'm allowed up to four tickets for friends," she explained.

"No!" Bakugo answered quickly.

However, his decline of the invitation was overshadowed by Deku's eager, "That would be great! Thanks!"

"Great! Come over about seven for dinner. You can get the tickets then."

"You don't have to bribe us with food, you know," Bakugo snapped grouchily. "We'll take the damn tickets if we have to."

"Oh, I'm not. You don't have to come over for dinner if you don't want to."

"We'd love to," Deku interjected.

Dammit!

~\\..'../~

* * *

Takara arrived home about six. Damn. No time to cook. There was still plenty of beer and sodas from last night's cook out in the refrigerator so beverages were covered. Searching for the nearest pizza place on her phone, she placed an order online and headed for the shower.

Leaving her hair to air dry and forgetting about make up, she pulled on a pair of short denim shorts and a magenta colored t-shirt. The ding of her doorbell signaled that either the pizza or her guests had arrived.

Her bare feet slapped on the hardwood floor as she ran to answer it when there was an insistent pounding knock. Although she did not know him well yet, she assumed that could only be one person. Opening the door, her suspicions were proved right when the perpetually grumpy blond with the dandelion hairdo scowled at her.

"It's good to see you too, Bakugo," she greeted him.

Izuku elbowed him out of the way. He held a chocolate cake in his hands. Her favorite. A man after her own heart.

"I brought you something. I hope you'll like it," he said, holding it out to her.

"I'm sure I'll love it," she assured him, taking the cake from him. "Come in, come in."

She left the door open behind her as she took the cake to sit on the gleaming white counters that were still bare. She had yet to unpack the boxes of plates and glasses and all of the other kitchen implements.

"I thought you said you were cooking dinner," Bakugo said as he looked around the kitchen with no pots and pans in sight much less food.

"I never said I was cooking. I said there would be dinner," she countered despite that not being her intention at all.

The doorbell rang as if on cue.

"Ah hah!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "There it is now. Hope you like pizza."

"I'm getting a beer," muttered Bakugo, opening the refrigerator.

"Help yourself," she called out although he already was buried waist deep in the refrigerator. Digging in her purse for a tip, she grabbed a few bills and headed for the door. "Grab me one too! And a soda for Izuku!"

Opening the door, Takara took the half a dozen pizza boxes from the teenage girl delivering them and crammed the wad of paper bills into her hand.

"Thank you, ma'am!" the girl responded happily.

"Thank you. Have a good evening!" With her hands full, she struggled to reach the handle.

Seeing her predicament, the girl bowed and closed the door for her. Takara took the pizzas to the counter where the two men stood sipping their drinks.

"Do you even have any plates?" Bakugo inquired, managing to sound condescending.

"In the box marked plates," she replied. "I didn't know what you liked so I got a variety. Pepperoni, plain cheese, supreme..."

"Oh, we'll eat anything," Izuku said, opening the boxes to reveal each pizza.

"Which box?" Bakugo asked, lifting the top one from the stack at the end of the counter.

"Oh, shoot, it's on bottom." Takara lifted the next one out of the way, setting it to the side.

Bakugo ripped open the box, and she reached inside to grab the three plates on top of the stack. Miraculously, they were not broken. Conveniently, she had wrapped them in cloth napkins so they had napkins as well. She gave each of them a plate and a napkin.

"Sorry I don't have a table," she apologized.

"We can sit at the counter. No big deal," Izuku assured her, taking a seat on one of the backless wooden bar stools.

"I see you've got a couch and a television. Got any movies?" Bakugo asked, sitting down.

"Kacchan," his friend muttered, his freckled cheeks reddening with embarrassment over him inviting himself to an extension of her hospitality.

"No, but the cable is hooked up." Takara took the empty stool between the two men.

"That will do. When is the concert?" Bakugo inquired, taking a big bite of the slice of pepperoni pizza in his hand.

"A week from this Friday. You're not working are you?" she asked, guessing at his reason for asking.

"I can ask for that night off. What about you Deku?"

"Same here. It's early enough notice I can just take the night off."

"Fantastic. I got all four tickets so you can find two more friends to bring."

"There's no one else you want to give them to?" Izuku asked.

"I've never had the time nor desire to make friends before. Typically I've lived in dormitories with fellow musicians. The music industry is highly competitive and there's lots of egos and petty jealousy to contend with. You can't really trust anyone. They'll do anything for that top spot or to be the star of the show. Not very conducive to genuine, lasting friendships. Other times I've lived in hotels or secluded houses by myself," Takara explained.

"The last two sound kind of nice to me," Bakugo mumbled around his mouthful of food.

"Not everyone is antisocial by choice. Besides, I don't think you're as bad of a guy as you pretend to be," she said.

"Think what you want."

"You're right. He's not a bad guy," confirmed Izuku.

"Shut up, Deku."

After dinner, they moved to the couch, chosen drinks in hand. Bakugo took it upon himself, of course, to be the one in charge of finding a movie snatching the remote off of the end table.

Feeling a bit chilly, Takara went to her bedroom to dig through boxes to find a blanket. Thank goodness when she packed everything up she had the presence of mind to label the boxes by which room they belonged in. Some she had gone a step further and added a description of the contents. Next time, she would do that to all of the boxes.

She grabbed two blankets just in case Izuku needed one. She seriously doubted the hot head would require any extra warmth.

When she returned the men had claimed the ends of the cushy leather couch which reclined leaving her the middle and no recliner. That was fine with her. She preferred to sit cross legged or with her legs tucked under her to the side. Sitting down, she leaned more toward Izuku.

"Need a blanket?" she asked, holding out a fuzzy gray one to him.

"Sure," he replied, accepting her offer. Shaking out the blanket, he spread it over both him and her.

_Okay then_, she thought, rolling up the second one and tucking it behind her neck.

Bakugo was still scrolling through the cable listings. Sitting so close to Izuku, both of them under the blanket, the warmth from his body soaked into hers. Being so close to another human being, one who had no expectations of her and did not want something from her, was comforting. Being with the two of them was enjoyable. Despite Bakugo's sometimes nasty attitude.

Takara sighed with contentment. Her eyes stung a little. It had been a long day. She blinked her heavy eyelids slowly, moistening her dry, burning eyes. When the effort to part her eyelids became too much, she allowed them to remain closed. Resting them for a minute could not hurt.

Hours later, she awakened to a dark apartment except for the TV that was still on. But she was not alone.

Izuku had slid down to rest his head on the puffy arm of the couch. Her head lay on his belly, and her arms were wrapped around his legs that he had raised onto the couch, his knees bent and his bare feet pressed against her belly. Bakugo's head rested on her padded hip. He had wrapped the other blanket around his shoulders.

Not sure what to do and too tired to move anyway, she closed her eyes and went back to sleep. When she woke up the second time, it was morning and she was alone. The guys had covered her up with the blankets, turned off the TV, and locked the door behind themselves.

Settling back down into the blankets, holding them tightly around her body, she smiled. Tamping down her enthusiasm bordering on giddiness, she erred on the side of cautious optimism. Maybe she had found two good friends. Hopefully she would not have to be lonely anymore.


	2. Just Friends

Author's Note: Back for a second round! Thank you maxridelover; you are awesome as ever! Kurokitty: although it seems you answered your own question I just wanted to expand a little - it's not an AU and they do have quirks; it's just set in the future when they're older and villains aren't coming at that from every shadow and alley so the quirks won't come into play a whole lot especially in the beginning here. This story will focus more on relationships rather than action and saving the day.

Thank you for the favorites and follows! I'm glad you like it!

~\'/~ This symbol indicates a lapse in time and/or scene change.

Well, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Feel free to express any thoughts or opinions.

* * *

Takara pulled on soft pink blouse with fluttering ruffles down the front to heighten the fashion value of her ripped faded jeans from 'too tired to care' to 'casual but pulled together' fashion status. Her strappy high heeled white sandals also elevated the outfit from Saturday comfort to weekday casual work-wear. She would rather be wearing her comfy jeans with a sloppy t-shirt and no shoes but unfortunately there was some adulting to do.

Grabbing her purse and cello case, she headed for the door. Time to get the day started. Using her elbow to push down the handle, she backed out of the door making sure not to bump the bulky case on the door jamb. The hydraulic hinge on the top automatically pulled the door closed once she scooted all the way out. As she was typing in her code to lock the door, Bakugo and Izuku came out of their apartment.

"Good morning, Takara!" Izuku cheerily greeted her.

"Morning," she chirped back happily.

She was not particularly a morning person, but she could fake it long enough to return the friendly greeting of her exceedingly cute and kind neighbor. Tossing the perpetually pissed off blonde a smile, she said nothing. He grunted in acknowledgement.

Bakugo was definitely not a morning person. Or an evening person for that matter. Despite being a chronic grouch, he did have his good points. They appeared on rare and unexpected occasion. Seeing the positive parts of him was like a treasure hunt. She would continue searching for them until she found more. The brief flashes of silver lining she saw in that black cloud were like seeing the brilliance of diamond after its polished.

Izuku Midoriya shined brightly all the time. Always wearing a big smile that shined clear through his large green eyes making them sparkle like the finest emeralds. Soft spoken with always a kind word to say. He was like a ray of sunshine in human form. She adored him.

Takara noted their outfits in turn. They always looked like they were going into the gym before going to work. Heroes have to stay in shape but seriously...a work out every day?

Bakugo was dressed in a black track suit with a thin orange stripe around the edges. He also wore running shoes and carried an orange duffel bag. Izuku was dressed in what appeared to be a tennis outfit, white shorts and short sleeved shirt with a wide stripe down the the sides of both. He wore red tennis shoes and carried a green duffel bag.

"So are you two personal trainers?" she asked, giving them both another inquisitive once over.

She was curious if they tried to keep a secret identity. If they did, they were not very good at keeping a low profile. They had been somewhat famous since their days at UA. Though she traveled a lot, she always kept up with the news from home.

Though American and Japanese, her family called Japan home at her father's behest. Father made all of the decisions for the family, including her playing the cello. Not that she minded being a musician at all. Music brought her quirk to life after all. She would have preferred a smaller, less ungainly instrument but he felt the cello suited her aptitude and personality best for reasons she did not understand.

"No, we're actually - ugh," Izuku grunted when Bakugo gave him a sharp stab in the ribs with an elbow.

Poor Izuku. Honest to a fault. Too pure for his own good. She did not know men like that existed in this world anymore.

"Yeah. Personal trainers," Bakugo said, giving her a hard glare.

There was nothing unusual about the steely expression in his crimson colored eyes as he stared at her. The color of fire and determination. Bakugo possessed the charm of a rattlesnake. A very handsome, very loud rattlesnake.

Before she could question his behavior obviously covering up the truth she already knew, Bakugo turned his back to her and started down the staircase. Izuku waited for her to go down next then followed.

"Hey, I got the kitchen unpacked. You guys wanna come over for dinner? I'm cooking," she added when Bakugo opened his mouth to say something.

"Watcha cookin'? " he asked, moving on to his next question.

"Chicken curry," she replied.

"What time?" Bakugo inquired next.

"I'll have it ready about seven."

"Oh," Izuku sighed in obvious disappointment. "I've got to work late tonight. I won't be home until about ten."

"That's okay. I'll save some for you. I'm sure you'll be starving. Just come on over when you get home. I'll most likely be awake anyway. I was going to get in a bit of extra practice before bed. The concert is tomorrow night after all," she reminded him, releasing a shaky breath.

"Getting the jitters already?" Izuku asked.

"Uh-huh. Have you two found guests to bring with you?"

Bakugo kept his head straight ahead, not offering an answer. Apparently he had checked out of the conversation after discussing dinner plans.

"We're bringing two of our long time friends, Uraraka Ochako and Eijiro Kirishima."

"Oh, there's a party afterward if all of you would like to come. It's the musicians, friends, and family. A small gathering really."

"That sounds fun. How should we dress?"

"I'm glad you asked. A suit and tie will be sufficient," she said, carefully stepping off the bottom stair so as to not lose her footing. The huge, heavy cello made for unwieldy baggage. "No tuxedos necessary."

"A suit? Sufficient, my ass. I'm not wearing a damn suit," Bakugo grumbled. "And a tuxedo is definitely out of the fucking question."

"Come on, Kacchan. It's just for a few hours," Izuku said.

"At least it's not a tuxedo," she said reminding him there was a more formal and stifling alternative required for some concerts. "Those are mostly worn for charity events. Speaking of - "

"Don't even ask," Bakugo cut her off. "I gotta go."

Bakugo jogged off on his way to the bus stop at the end of the block to begin his commute to his hero agency across the city.

"Speaking of charity events," she repeated, finishing the beginning of her sentence,"there's one coming up next month. It's one of my favorite fundraisers...a cause near and dear to my heart. But I'll explain more later. I'm sure you've get to go to work as well."

"Yeah," he replied regretfully. "Well, have a good day."

"You too, Izuku," she returned, turning toward the parking lot.

"Hey, Takara?"

"Yeah?"

"See ya tonight," he said.

"I'll be looking forward to it."

~\'/~

* * *

Takara walked as fast as she could toward the auditorium of the conservatory. Maybe high heels had not been the best choice of shoes when running late. She should not have chit chatted so long with her handsome neighbors.

Behind the closed doors on either side of the hall she could hear the beautiful sounds of music. The piano on which someone was playing Debussy's Clair de Lune. Another room where a group of string instruments were being tuned up. The sounds of clarinets tooting and brass horns honking and flutes tweeting in a flurry of noise before coming together and breaking into harmonious song.

When she reached the door of the auditorium, she could hear her fellow musicians running through their scales and going through their warm ups as she approached the door. At least they were not playing yet.

A groan pushed past her lips as she switched hands carrying her instrument to open the door. She should be up there getting ready as well. Hopefully the Maestro himself would be here today and not his self-righteous pupil with the god complex who sometimes liked to fill in and, as he put it, "give the old man a break." Of course that was spoken when the Maestro was no where around to hear.

As she traversed the steep stairs up to the stage, the kindly master conductor turned his white head in her direction to give her a stern look, his gray eyes steely. She smiled at him, and he shook his head like a disappointed but not angry grandfather. That look and head shake would be the extent of his admonishment for her being late.

Sliding into her seat which happened to be in the first row and the first one on the end, located conveniently close to the stairs, Takara took her time to remove her cello from its case. She had learned the hard way not to hurry when preparing her instrument. After paying for many expensive repairs including snapping off the end pin, breaking the neck, knocking off the bridge, and cracking the tailpiece, she decided taking her time was best no matter how late she may be.

"Miss Otani, why don't you start us off today?" the Maestro requested. "Please use your gift to get us in the mood to play...and play brilliantly."

"Yes, sir," she responded a bit breathlessly.

Her fellow musicians closed their eyes. It thrilled her to know they looked forward to being taken on a musical mental journey. They were all nervous about the upcoming concert and needed a break to relax. Some people sat on the floor and got into the Lotus position as if preparing to meditate. Others bowed their heads as if praying.

I can do this. This is for fun. No pressure, Takara thought to herself, inhaling a deep breath. Raising her bow, she began playing Bach's Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major. The piece was calming and inspiring simultaneously; two things they all needed at the moment.

Allowing her own eyelids to come together, she imagined the printed lines and notes lifting from a page of sheet music. The lines flowed off the paper like water, gaining a life of their own as they floated through the air. The lines weaved around the musicians. The notes lifted off of the lines to bounce on the heads of random members of the orchestra eliciting a few giggles. Taking on the guise of expressing emotions, some of the musical notes danced across the floor joyfully and others skittered under the chairs as if afraid. A few snuggled in the laps of musicians like children.

Takara's favorite quote about music came from Pablo Casals, a cellist, composer, and conductor from Spain. Alive in the early twentieth century, he is believed to be one of the greatest cellists of all time. A hero of a different kind to her.

_"Music is the divine way to tell beautiful, poetic things to the heart,"_ Pablo Casals once said. A quote she believed perfectly described her quirk. She did not just speak to the mind, but the soul, the seat of emotions of a person, as well.

This is her quirk: using the already potent power of music to vitalize the imagination and heighten the emotions of others by either impressing her thoughts upon them or allowing their own creative faculties to run rampant. A totally useless talent in her eyes; except for purpose of pure entertainment and fun which was enough for her.

She used her ability to make people happy. Especially when life was difficult and happiness was nowhere to be found. Sometimes even sorrow could be expressed in a positive way through her music to assist people with working through mourning. _"Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise,"_ Victor Hugo, a nineteenth century French poet and novelist, once said. She used her music to remind people though darkness presently surrounded them, the sun would always return.

When she completed the piece, Takara opened her eyes to glance around. No one said a word, but all of the members of the orchestra were smiling and appeared loosened up.

"Thank you, Miss Otani," said the Maestro, lifting his thin ivory baton high into the air. "Let's begin."

~\\./~

* * *

At lunch, Takara visited the plaza in front of the conservatory where the food vendors with carts set up to serve the hungry people in the area. After getting an extraordinarily unhealthy but incredibly tasty chili dog, she sat down on the cement wall surrounding the nearby fountain.

While eating, she looked over the sheet music for the songs to be performed in the upcoming concert. A mixture of classical and contemporary pieces, she studied the current hit songs in particular. Playing the notes in her head, she hummed the melody to get a greater feel for the piece.

"Takara?"

A pair of thick soled black shoes appeared in her line of vision at the edge of the page of music in her hand. Her eyes traveled up the red ankle guards attached to the shoes. Black metal leg braces extended up the legs to the mid-thigh. The thighs were thick and beefy under the smooth material of the skin tight black and green bodysuit.

A red belt with pouches at the hips hung low on the narrow waist. The torso widened out further up into broad shoulders and brawny arms both shrink wrapped in the black and green hero uniform. Black gloves reached all the way up to the middle of the brawny upper arms where red lines outlined them. A silver partial face mask hung around his neck like a necklace of sorts. A hood with what almost appeared to be rabbit ears hung down his back.

At last her eyes reached the face. Big smile, huge green eyes. An undercut with longer green hair, messy and almost curly, on top.

"Deku?"

"Hi," he said, giving her that same shy little wave he gave her the first day they met.

"Uhm...hi," she returned, her eyes skimming back down his body then back up.

Takara knew he was a hero but had not yet seen him in his hero costume. She received a double whammy on the shocking body reveal. Not trying to stare or be a lecher, she could not help but look him up and down a few times. DAMN!

He always wore loose clothing that covered most of his body and camouflaged his muscles. The shorts he always wore at home, including his swim trunks, reached his knees. He always wears a t-shirt with his swim trunks, and never a white one that would go transparent in the water when they swim. She had no idea this body was hiding under those over-sized clothes all this time.

Bakugo proudly showed off his body by wearing skin tight jeans and tight tank tops. There was no way he was wearing a t-shirt when taking a swim. Takara had no illusions about his well muscled physique. Seeing Deku like this made her wonder what Bakugo's hero costume looked like.

"Wow," she giggled, her face warming with a blush as his cheeks reddened from her prolonged stare.

"You already knew we were heroes, didn't you?" he asked her.

"Yeah," she admitted, her eyes still traveling up and down his body. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to stare, but...wow." Shaking her head, she did her best to get a grip on herself. "Ah, uhm...so what are you doing here? I thought you were at work."

"I am at work. The agency I work for is located a few blocks away," he explained. "I just happened to be patrolling the area and saw you sitting over here. I thought I would come say hi."

"I'm glad you did. This is a very nice surprise. You should have let me drive you to work this morning since you're so close," she suggested.

"Oh, I don't mind the run."

"Do what now? You run here?"

"Well yeah. It's a great cardio workout."

"Yeah, I'd say so. That's quite an understatement. That's like five or six miles. One way!" she exclaimed. "How do you...how do you even have the energy to function the rest of the day? You walk all day, then run another five miles home?"

"I'm accustomed to strenuous workouts," he said with a humble shrug. "I've always worked out really hard."

"No kidding," she murmured. "Is it okay for you to be talking to me? You won't get into trouble will you?"

"Nah! Community relations are part of our job. We're expected to stop and talk to people while on patrol."

"Oh, that's good." Her eyes moved from his radiant smile back up to his hair. "I like the hair. New do?"

"Yeah," he said, running his fingers through the top. The purposely messy hair fell right back into place. "I wanted to get it cut for the concert tomorrow night. I wanted to look good in my suit."

"I'm sure you will," she blurted before she could stop herself.

He chuckled lightly, rubbing the back of his head. The red coloration made his freckles and green eyes really stand out. Maybe one day he would not blush so much around her. She would miss that.

Clearing her throat and once again doing her best not to stare, she glanced at her watch. Dammit! Her time was up.

"I should be getting back to the rehearsal. You'll have to come to visit me again sometime."

"That sounds great. I'll definitely do that."

~\'/~

* * *

Takara arrived home around five giving her plenty of time to make the curry. Once the dish was set to simmer, she went to take her shower. Since it was only six o'clock at this time, she decided to get in a little practice before Bakugo came over.

Setting up on the balcony, she took a minute to survey the view. The dark yellow sun hanging low in the sky turned the surrounding white buildings to gold. Bathed in the deepening light at the end of another hot summer day, her lightly tanned skin transformed into a rich shade of gold. The stagnant, humid heat permeated her body as she sat on the balcony basking in the evening sun. Droplets of sweat formed over her upper lip and across her forehead. Relaxed and invigorated, she was ready.

She played a child's song, something of a lullaby. The song was light and bubbly, yet she always found it a little bit sad for some reason. The words to the song was a person declaring another to be their sunshine; their happiness, their everything. She immediately thought of Izuku and that thousand watt smile, bright as the sun and just as warm.

_"The prettiest smiles hide the deepest secrets. The brightest eyes have cried the most tears. The kindest hearts have felt the most pain." _

Takara was not sure where she heard that quote or who said it. The thought of Izuku being in pain physically, and worse yet, emotional distress, caused her tangible pain in the form of a belly ache. She knew as a hero he had gotten hurt many times, both physically and emotionally. There were scars on his arms to prove it and a sadness deep in those kind forest green eyes of his.

Inhaling deeply, embracing the cello and pulling her bow across the strings, she continued to play the child's song all over again. Giving it a faster, more up beat tempo, she felt the desire to sing while she played . She could not stop thinking about Izuku Midoriya.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine," she sang, keeping her voice low.

Playing the cello is where her musical abilities started and ended. Not by any stretch of the imagination, especially her own, is she a singer. But she tried. She sang in the shower and at times like this she would sing for herself. One day she would sing for her child. But no one else would ever hear her voice. Or so she thought.

"You make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away." Her voice broke like a wine glass dropped on a tile floor at the end. She laughed at herself.

"Guess you can't be awesome at everything," Bakugo muttered.

"Huh?" she gasped, her head jerking his way.

Bakugo stood on his balcony at the corner facing her, holding on to the railing with both hands. Suddenly, he did a deep knee bend then vaulted himself over the side of his balcony. Clearing the handrail on her balcony with inches to spare, he landed on his feet like a graceful cat.

As usual, he wore black jeans and a body skimming tank top showing off all the muscles in his arms and chest. Today he brightened up his ensemble by choosing a tank top in a pumpkin orange color. His hair was shorter. The back and sides had been closely cropped almost shaved but the top was left longer and spiked out in all directions like always.

So he got a hair cut too. She could not stop the smile from forming on her face.

"Yeah, I know my singing sucks," she said before he could open his mouth to repeat the insult. "I like your hair. Short and sharp. Like your insults."

"I do like how quick you are on the comeback," he rejoined.

Takara stood up to take her cello inside to put it back in the case laying open on the couch.

"Want a beer?" she asked despite walking away from him and down the short hall to her room.

"Not tonight. I am getting a water though," he announced, opening her refrigerator. "Want one?"

"Yes, please," she responded politely not bothered in the least by his behavior.

"Is dinner ready? It's almost seven."

Takara took the bottle of water he held out to her as she passed by on her way to the couch.

"As a matter of fact it is. Help yourself. You always do," she mumbled under her breath as she plopped down on the couch.

Bakugo had a habit of going through her cabinets and refrigerator in search of food and drinks whenever he came over. Not that she minded really. She was glad he felt so comfortable here.

"What?" he grunted irritably.

"Nothing. Dishes are on the cabinet to the right of the stove," she informed him as he began opening and closing cabinet doors.

"Want some?"

Was he seriously going to prepare her a plate of food and bring it to her? Too bad she had no appetite.

"No, thanks. I'm not really hungry."

"Nervous about the concert?" Bakugo asked, sitting down beside her with his plate.

"I am. The jitters never get any better," she sighed, watching him open his mouth wide to accommodate the impressively huge spoonful of rice and curry.

His cheeks puffed out he had put so much food in his mouth. He looked positively adorable with chipmunk cheeks.

"How is it?" Takara asked after he finally swallowed.

"You don't suck at cooking," he said before shoveling in more food.

It wasn't exactly a shining endorsement but coming from him it was quite a compliment. When he got up to get seconds, she felt downright flattered.

"Will it bother you if I practice?" she inquired, feeling a bit antsy.

"You really should take a break. Too much practicing can be bad, you know. Overworking yourself will cause fatigue," he said.

"Says the man who works out every single day," she snarkily returned.

"How about a swim?" he asked, ignoring her comment. "Physical exercise is a good way to relieve stress."

"Good idea," she agreed, getting up to change.

Hopefully swimming would not only reduce her stress but also stir up her appetite. Then she could eat with Izuku when came over. Putting on her swimsuit then grabbing a towel, she returned to the living room.

Bakugo was gone but it was fair to assume to he went back to his apartment to change as well. Rather than waiting for him, she went up to the roof to get into the pool to begin swimming laps. On her tenth lap, she stopped to see if he had come up yet. She stood up to see him relaxing in the hot tub and watching her.

"Are you done? Care to join me?" he asked, splashing his hand in the water. "The water's fine."

"I bet," she murmured, sliding over the divider between the pool and hot tub without getting out of the water.

The hot water felt amazing on her muscles that had just started to feel a tingle before the full on burn could begin. Takara pressed her back against the opposite side of the hot tub from him.

"I thought you were going to swim with me," she said, closing her eyes and sinking into the hot bubbling water until it reached her chin.

"I never said that. I suggested a swim to you. I never said I was going to swim," he reminded her. "Besides, I'm tired. I worked out this morning then pounded the pavement all day."

"Catch any bad guys?"

"Ah, I knew you saw through my bullshit this morning."

Takara popped open one eye. "Did you seriously think I was that dumb? How could I _not_ know you two are heroes?"

"I was hoping you wouldn't," he grumbled, his jaw tensing.

"What kind of women have you been hanging around?" she scoffed.

"Mostly heroes like myself. I didn't have to worry about keeping my identity a secret."

"Trust me. It's not a secret. It hasn't been for a very long time. You and your classmates were all over the news when you were in high school and have made many appearances in media since then. It must have been a heavy burden to carry the hopes and dreams of the heroes of that time. All of you were the next great hope, the generation to come after them to bring peace once again...tasked with protecting that peace and the people," she said, noting the anger hardening his eyes into shiny red marbles.

"Yeah, well, sometimes I think we did our jobs too damn good. I guess it's a good thing not much happens anymore, but it does get boring as hell," he muttered.

Suddenly Bakugo reached out, seizing her by the ankle. He easily pulled her over to him through the water. His big, strong hands gripped her waist and lifted her up to stand on the cement seat built into the hot tub.

"Aaaahhhh!" she screamed when his hands moved down to her thigh. "What are you doing?"

"There's something I want to see," he said, pushing aside the big bow covering the uppermost part of her thigh on her left side.

"Bakugo! Don't do that! Stop!" she squealed, slapping at his hands as his fingers drifted across her skin.

Bakugo would not be swayed in his determination to see the tattoo no matter how much she smacked his hands. His touch grew softer, gentler when he saw the three inch tall G clef note in its entirety.

"Nice tattoo," he said, his forefinger tracing the curl below the bottom curve of the note.

"You do have this awful habit of helping yourself to whatever you want, don't you?"

His eyes flickered up to hers. That lopsided half smile gracing his face and giving him an impish look without appearing licentious. Then his crimson eyes lowered back to her thigh to study the tattoo he had been so damn intent on seeing in the first place.

A neck and scroll had been added to the top of the musical note as well as a tailpiece and endpin to give the definite impression of a cello. Takara had gotten the tattoo in celebration of the release of her first album; the moment she felt like she had finally _'made it'_ as a musician.

"You have absolutely no sense of personal space do you?" she admonished him, smacking the back of his hand when his finger traced the neck of the cello all the way up her hip and under the bow of her swimsuit. "Stop that!"

"You stop!" he snapped, slapping her hand in return..

"Ow! Hey!" she yelled at him. "What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with you?" he shot back, more annoyed than usual. "I just wanted to see your tattoo. You're barely covered up anyway so what's the big deal?"

"But you're touching me so...so intimately," she said, blushing.

"I never thought you'd be so bashful," he teased her, dragging his fingers over her ribs to tickle her. "We're friends aren't we?"

"Not _that_ kind of friends. Hey! Bakugo! Don't...d-don't...do...that!" she squealed, her words broken up by her giggles as he tickled her again.

Bakugo caught her hand when she tried to swat his hand away. "Okay, okay. I'll stop."

He took her both of her hands in his to assist her with lowering her body back down into the water. Instead of retreating to the other side of the hot tub, she sat down beside him. Personal space had already been violated and boundaries crossed so why distance herself now?

"We are friends. So I guess you're right, Bakugo. It isn't a big deal," she sighed, sinking into the water up to her chin.

"Katsuki," he said.

"What?" Giving him a sidelong glance, she edged away from him a bit.

"My first name is Katsuki. You call Deku by his first name. You should call me by my first name."

"Oh, okay. Katsuki," she repeated, trying his name out for herself.

She liked the way it sounded. The light blush on his cheeks told her that he liked the way it sounded when she said it too.

~\\./~

* * *

At fifteen minutes after ten there was a timid knock on her door. Takara smiled. Izuku had arrived.

"Welcome home," she greeted him warmly after opening the door.

"Sorry I'm late," he apologized, entering the door and kicking off his red shoes at the step. "I had to stop and help someone on my way home from work."

"You're not that late. Besides, isn't being a hero a twenty four hour a day job? You can't just stop being who you are. It is an inherent part of you after all," she said, leading him to the kitchen.

Takara opened the warmer below the oven. Using an oven mitt, she removed the plates of food and set them on the round woven placemats on the counter.

"You haven't eaten yet? You shouldn't have waited on me," Izuku said, sitting down on one of the barstools.

"It's fine. I wasn't hungry earlier. What would like to drink? Tea? Water?"

"Water's fine."

Grabbing two bottles from the fridge, Takara sat down beside him placing one bottle in front of his plate. She scooped a heaping spoonful of food into her mouth, quickly going back for another. She ate with the passion and speed of a starving woman.

Taking that swim had done wonders for her appetite. However, after her unusual interaction with Bakugo, or Katsuki as he wanted her to call him now, she debated if she would have any appetite at all. That man bewildered her to no end and drew her to within a inch of losing her sanity. Yet, there was something so appealing about him, possibly that whole _'bad boy with a heart of gold'_ thing he had going on.

Glancing at the man beside her, she knew she looked at a man with a true heart of gold and the golden smile to match. Thank goodness all of them were just friends. How would she ever be able to choose between them in a romantic situation?

Takara studied the numerous scars on his hands and arms revealed by his red, short sleeved t-shirt. Extending her hand, her forefinger traced the scar on his hand resting on the counter top. The scar almost completely bisected the back of his hand save a few millimeters. Smaller scars streaked across his fingers. They marred his wrists, his forearms. The ones ones on his biceps disappeared under the sleeves of his shirt.

"How did you get so many scars?" she questioned. Until now, she had not been comfortable asking him about them.

"Most of them I gave to myself before I learned how to control my power. I've broken almost every bone in my body. Several of them more than once," he explained, rubbing his hand over his forearm due to being hyper aware of the scars. "The others...well, I'd rather not talk about how I got them."

"I didn't mean to bring up something that bothers you so much. I'm sorry," she apologized, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it.

"It's all right," he assured her. "So Kacchan told me you have this amazing tattoo, and I should see it. Do you mind showing it to me?"

_I'm going to kill that man_, she thought to herself, plastering a smile on her face as Izuku gazed at her with his big, innocent eyes full of curiosity.

Takara stood up, taking hold of the hem of the loose sweat shorts she was wearing. As she lifted the hem higher, his already impossibly huge eyes got bigger.

"Oh, my god! Where exactly is this tattoo located?" he asked, his voice rising in pitch as she bared her entire thigh. He closed his eyes tightly.

"Right here. See," she said, revealing the tattoo on her upper thigh, lower hip area.

Izuku slowly opened his eyes, blinking rapidly. "Oh, that is quite pretty."

"I got it when my first album was released. I didn't care if it sold one copy or one hundred or one million. I was just happy to be a _real_ musician," she explained.

"As if you weren't before?" he asked, smiling at her.

"So when did you start feeling like a real hero?" Dropping the leg of the shorts, she sat back down beside him.

"I don't know. Being a hero never came easy...or naturally. I had a lot of people who believed in me. One person in particular made all the difference in the world. He believed in me before I could believe in myself," he said, the tears coating his eyes giving them a glossy sheen.

"Sometimes that's all it takes for us to become what we were always meant to be," she murmured wistfully.

The Maestro was that person for her. The first time he heard her play, he knew what she was, what she could do beyond her musical talent. Her worked with her and nurtured both her musical skills and her quirk.

Her father wanted her to hide her gift, to bury it, and never use it. He thought by hiding her among an orchestra she would be lost among the mass of musicians and sound, her skill would be tamped down and negated by those around her. The listener could mistake the visions running around in their head as simply their own thoughts running wild, their own imagination taking over after being inspired by the music.

The Maestro had other plans for her. He gave her solo parts in performances. Then, to her father's dismay, introduced her to people in the music industry who would record her alone and send her on solo tours for a career of her own set apart from the orchestra.

"Takara?" Izuku called to her to bring her back from her trip down memory lane. "I should be going."

"So soon?" she asked, a little befuddled at his sudden desire to leave.

"Well, it's late. You need to get up early right? To go rehearse?"

"I suppose you're right."

Takara slid off the stool to walk him to the door. At the door, he turned to face her so he could slide his feet into his shoes.

"Thank you for dinner. It was delicious."

"Thank you. Good night, Izuku," she said.

"Good night, Takara," he replied in kind.

Taking her by surprise, he gave her a brief but powerful embrace. Her entire body tingled from head to toe. She would swear her hair tingled.

"A hug for good luck. You'll be great tomorrow night. Sleep well."

"Th-thanks," she stammered.

Izuku pushed down the handle and backed out of the door, his eyes staying on hers. Long after he was gone, she continued to stare at the closed door. Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. Her body felt electrified, every nerve quivering. How could she possibly get to sleep now?


	3. Closer Friends

Author's Note: Thank you for the favorites and follows!

Thank you to my gracious and wonderful reviewers: maxridelover, nurwanyy, honeytea8, and kurokitty. Thank you all for your kind words and encouragement. This new chapter is dedicated to all of you, and I hope you like it.

* * *

"Did you see her this morning?" Deku asked as they were getting ready.

"No. She was already gone by the time I got up," Kacchan replied.

"Do you think she's okay?" Deku pulled the knot of the tie up, but it was too big and too crooked - just like the way he always tied his ties in high school. Groaning in frustration, he untangled the fat, lopsided knot to start over.

"She's fine. This isn't her first performance, you know." Kacchan watched as Deku twisted the tail of the red silk tie around the other side again. He grunted in irritation. After all these years Deku still could not tie a tie correctly.

"I know but - " he began to be cut off when Kacchan snatched the tie out of his hand.

"For God's sake, I can't take it anymore," he grumbled as he deftly tied the tie in a perfect Windsor knot, sliding it into place and ending the frustration for the both of them.

"How do you know how to do that?" Deku inquired, staring at his reflection and the absolutely flawless tie as he tucked the tail into his black jacket. "You don't even wear ties."

"Yeah, well, I know how to do a lot of things," he muttered, annoyed as always. "We need to go. We're going to be late. Uraraka and Kirishima are meeting us at the concert hall."

They walked downstairs in preparation to continue on to the corner to hail a cab. However, when they reached the bottom stair, a long black limousine slid to a stop along the sidewalk. The driver, outfitted in a cliched limo driver's uniform including the cap and white gloves got out to greet them.

"Mr. Midoriya and Mr. Bakugo, I presume," he said.

"Yeah. That's us. Who the hell are you?" demanded Bakugo testily.

"Miss Otani sent me. I'll be driving you to the concert hall," he replied dutifully, unfazed by the man's rudeness. He opened the back door of the vehicle to invite them inside.

"Hi, Deku! Hi, Bakugo!" Uraraka addressed them, leaning forward in the seat.

"Hey, guys!" Kirishima piped up, sitting in the seat across from her.

"What are you guys doing here?" Deku asked, happy to see them.

"Your friend found our addresses and sent the car to pick us up first to surprise you," she explained, patting the black leather seat for him to sit beside her.

Bakugo slid into the seat beside Kirishima. All three men were wearing black suits. Deku wore a black shirt and red tie with his. Kirishima was the opposite with a red shirt and black tie. Bakugo, rebellious as ever, wore no tie with his black shirt. At least he wore the damn suit. Close enough. Takara would have to be happy with that.

Ochako Uraraka wore a pale pink chiffon dress with fluttery short sleeves and a flowing waterfall skirt. Her hair, which presently hung well below her shoulders, had been curled into soft spiral curls.

"You look beautiful, Uraraka," Deku complimented her, blushing despite simply giving his best friend an innocent flattering remark.

"You look good yourself, Deku," she responded in kind. Reaching for his tie, she patted the knot. "Good job on the tie."

"Kacchan tied it for me," he admitted, his blush deepening as he self-consciously straightened the already straight tie.

"Oh, after all these years, it's still difficult huh?" she said sympathetically.

"Yeah," he sighed. "At least I had someone to help me."

"You need to get yourself a damn girlfriend to help you with these kind of things," grumbled Kacchan. "I'm not going to be around forever to babysit you, you know."

"So what's the deal with this neighbor of yours? Is she some kind of celebrity or something?" Kirishima asked.

"Yeah. She's a famous musician, idiot. You've heard her music before during our workouts," Bakugo reminded him.

"Oh, yeah I forgot," he laughed at himself, resisting the urge to scratch the back of his head since he had slicked down his usually spiked hair.

"She's a really nice person. And a good cook," Deku added proudly.

"Yeah, but her singing sucks," Bakugo muttered.

"You've heard her sing?" Deku inquired, almost sounding hurt.

"Don't cry... damn," he groused. "Trust me, you're not missing anything. If you heard her, you probably really would cry."

"Hey, guys, look!" Uraraka interjected to change the subject. She pointed at the mini refrigerator and fully stocked bar complete with glasses. "Why don't we have a drink? I think we all need to relax. Especially you, Bakugo."

~\'/~

* * *

Takara stood at the corner of backstage, peeking around the heavy maroon curtain. She was anxiously awaiting for the arrival of her special guests. Their seats were located in front of the stage where she would be sitting. She was rethinking that location now. At first she thought having them so close would calm her and encourage her. At the moment, she was positive the idea of them being right there, having a literal front row seat to any mistake she might make, was making her more anxious.

As she scanned the crowd, her eyes stopping at each entrance along the way, a familiar head of unruly, pointy pale blond hair appeared. Deku was behind him along with their two friends. The brown haired woman was very pretty. Her arm was linked through Deku's. Jealousy flashed through her before she quickly pushed it away. Deku told her they had been friends since high school. If anything was going to happen between them, it already would have.

Takara inhaled deeply when her chest began to ache. When nervous she had a tendency to hold her breath. A life long nervous habit she had never been able to change. She fiddled with the old fashioned cameo pendant attached to the black velvet choker around her neck. The silhouetted bust of a woman carved from mother of pearl lay against a glossy obsidian background. Her mother had given her the necklace as a good luck charm before her first public performance when she was still in middle school. The necklace belonged to her grandmother who she had never met.

Her fingers smoothed down the slightly puffy skirt of the sleeveless maroon dress that had been chosen for her to wear. She did not particularly like the slit cut up to her hip on one side but at least the large skirt went all the the way down to the floor. Her leg only showed when she walked. She clasped her hands together to resist the urge to clench handfuls of her skirt which would wrinkle the silk fabric.

She watched as they took their seats. They all looked so handsome in their suits. A joyful smile graced her lips to see Bakugo in a suit. He 'cleaned up nicely' as they say. She did not even notice the absence of a tie. Deku looked incredible. Unable to see his freckles, he appeared to be every bit of the gorgeous grown man that he is rather than an overgrown child.

"Takara? Are you ready?" the Maestro asked her, touching her elbow gently as not to startle her.

She inhaled another refreshing breath to fill her starved lungs. "I'm ready, Sir."

"Shall we?" He offered her his arm to escort her onto the stage.

'Teacher's pet,' she could almost hear the other's chanting the juvenile taunt as she took his arm. But it's not like she could cheat on a test or be given higher marks than she deserved. She either had the talent or she did not. And thanks in great part to this man's tutelage, she had the talent it took to make the rise to star musician.

The Maestro led her out onto the stage, followed by her fellow musicians. The females were escorted by male counterparts who played the same instrument. The orchestra was evenly divided between men and women mostly for aesthetic purposes. They were also arranged in their row not only by the instrument they played but also their height as well. Presentation was strictly focused on for this performance, almost as much as musical ability.

At the front of the stage, Takara slipped her arm from her kind escort's, curtsying to the audience. The Maestro bowed deeply in greeting as well. Her knees felt wobbly as she pivoted to go to her chair at the end of the first row while he went to take his place on the pedestal at the front. Each duo repeated the process to greet their audience before taking their chairs where their instruments had been placed on stands much earlier.

Takara looked down at her guests in front of her before the spotlights came up to illuminate the entire stage. Deku waved and smiled broadly. Bakugo stared at her without changing facial expression from his typical unsmiling, grumpy one. The other two smiled and waved at her. She waved back with a big smile. Her eyes settled on Bakugo, returning his scowl.

Once all of the orchestra members were standing by their chairs, they bowed to the crowd in unison. The audience clapped in acknowledgement. The Maestro flicked on his microphone and turned to address the people taking a seat in their chairs.

"Tonight we are here to have fun. We will be performing for you an eclectic mix of classical and contemporary, new and old. Both given our own personal touch to make the experience all new and exciting. Please enjoy," he said, bowing and rotating back around to face his musicians.

Raising his baton, a hush fell over the entire place. Not a sound could be heard. Not even breathing. Takara could hear the deafening sound of her heartbeat in her head like a stampede of horses on her brain. She readied her bow. His hands moved. Time to begin.

Takara tried not to think of her solo that would take place at the end of the concert. She would wrap things up. That would be when she takes everyone on a mental trip with her. But until then, she had other pieces to play.

At intermission, she had to stay backstage. She would have loved to speak with everyone, to officially meet Uraraka and Kirishima. However, the musicians were not allowed to mingle with the guests because they would dominate too much of their time and prevent them from resting to energize themselves to play the rest of the concert. No wonder people thought musicians were such divas.

When the time came for her solo, Takara picked up her cello and strode toward the middle of the stage. Her head held high, eyes facing forward, she exuded much more confidence then she felt. Smiling and nodding at the people while they clapped, unable to see them because of the lights blinding her, she positioned the cello in front of her while standing and readied herself.

Closing her eyes, she formed the image a lovely dancer in her head. Tall and thin, long limbed and elegant. Wearing a peach colored bodysuit and gossamer skirt over the top, the woman almost appeared naked at first. Her brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun twisted at the crown of her head and not a hair out of place.

Takara pulled her bow across the strings and the dancer moved, extending her fingers toward the sky as if reaching for something. Eyes closed, face bearing a rapturous expression, she lifted her body on the toes of one foot. The graceful ballerina spun and leapt her way through everyone's head, entertaining them with sight as her maker performed the sound.

She purposely kept the mental imagery plain and straightforward, seeking sophistication in simplicity from the classical movements displayed by the solitary dancer. Emotional impact arose from the ballerina's facial expressions and use of her hands. A sad expression and grasping fingers to emulate loss or searching for something. A pinched angry face and pounding fists to convey rage.

When it was over, the audience remained eerily quiet. Takara gulped and it made a sound that she would swear echoed through the deadly silent hall. Tears burned her eyeballs and flooded the corners. Oh, no! She had blown it. She had gone too basic and bored everyone right out of their heads. The lights dimmed, and turned downward as she made her way back to her chair. Her heels clicked on the floor which might as well have been thunderclaps in the disturbing stillness. A single tear escaped her eye and zigzagged down her cheek.

Then a single person began to clap. Her eyes lifted to see Bakugo standing to his feet while clapping. Deku stood up and clapped for her as well. Their friends on either side of them joined in. Soon the entire audience was on their feet and shaking the building with thunderous applause.

Her eyes met Bakugo's since the lights were subdued enough for her to see him. The hint of a smile played at the edges of his mouth.

'Thank you,' she mouthed to him.

She bowed to show her gratitude to the audience for the standing ovation Bakugo started for her. After catching his eye, she bowed to him specifically to thank him again for his unexpected kindness.

~\'/~

* * *

The man who had picked them up in the limousine met them at the end of aisle. The hat and gloves were gone. Only the three piece black suit and shiny patent leather shoes remained.

"Hey, aren't you the driver?" Bakugo asked gruffly. "It's not time to go home yet. Isn't there a party after this?"

"Yes, sir, there is indeed a party. That's why I'm here...to lead you there. Follow me please," he requested, turning his back to them. "I am actually Miss Otani's manager. I do what she needs me to do."

"That must be nice," Bakugo muttered in return. "For her I mean."

"I suppose it is. I've been with her for a very long time. I think of her like my own daughter," the man said, eyeballing the brusque blonde. The man appeared to be in his late thirties, early forties, not really old enough to qualify as being her father but whatever. "So you're her neighbor I take it?"

"Yeah. So?"

"She has told me a lot about you," he said, pausing as his dark, sharp eyes flickered over to Deku. "Both of you. She speaks of the two of you fondly...and often."

"And your point is?" he retorted abruptly, growing suspicious as to what the man might be hinting at.

"I'm glad she has good neighbors to look out for her. That's all," the Manager assured the distrustful man.

The Manager led them through a corridor that reminded them of a school hallway. They arrived at a set of double doors that distinctly resembled the doors of a gym. However, these glass and metal doors opened to a grand ballroom. On the stage, a DJ played music. At the moment, a slow classical tune played at a lower volume from the music of the concert to give everyone's ears a break. Bars were set up in each corner of the room and round tables surrounded a dance floor in front of the stage.

Servers in white shirts, black vests, and black pants carried around silver trays of hors d ouvres and wine. At the moment, people were still getting drinks and milling about, saying hello and talking. No one had yet taken to the dance floor.

Takara stood several yards away speaking to a couple who congratulated her on such a great performance. Her eyes moved about the room, searching for her friends, while she spoke to them. When her eyes met Bakugo's, a big smile broke out across her face. Thanking the couple for their kind words and excusing herself, she hurried over to him.

"Hi," she said breathlessly, standing in front of Bakugo.

"Hello," he rejoined. "Great performance. The ballerina was stunning. She fit the song perfectly. Understated but impactful. I quite liked it."

"Thank you," she gushed in a whisper, her body visibly vibrating with excitement from his kind and positive review. Her eyes skirted down his body and back up to his face quickly. "And you look incredible. You really should wear a suit more often. You make that suit look good."

"Wow," mumbled Kirishima at her eloquent return flattery.

"Is that...Bakugo?" Kirishima asked. "When did he...when did he become so well spoken...and nice?"

"He has his moments," Deku replied, stepping up beside him to speak to her next. As if to one up Bakugo, whether intentional or not, he threw his arms around Takara's shoulders in a shocking public display of affection.

"Oh, my," Uraraka gasped at the sight; mostly because she had never seen Deku be so forward.

"That was breathtaking. Simply amazing," Deku complimented her.

Takara hugged him back making the others jaws drop in unison.

"So the three of you are really good friends, I see," Kirishima murmured to Bakugo, nudging him in the ribs with an elbow.

"Shut up," he growled in response, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm going to go get a drink."

"Oh, by the way," Deku declared, bringing her attention to Kirishima and Uraraka to begin introductions.

They exchanged names and handshakes and bows before deciding to follow Bakugo's lead to get a drink. After getting their beverages, they joined Bakugo at a table far away from the stage but near a bar so they could converse amongst themselves and keep their drinks filled.

"This is so nice. Thank you so much for this evening," Uraraka said to Takara.

"Oh, it's no problem at all. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. Oh, before I forget," she said, laying her hand over Deku's that was close to hers on the table. "There is a charity event next month. I would like all of you to come to that as well. I'll buy an entire table. You can bring along two more friends, and I'll send my manager out to pick you all up. Oooh, or better yet," she said, bouncing in her seat with childlike glee. "You all can come over to my apartment. Just bring your clothes to change. We can have a cook out and swim...just have a party all day!"

"Are you sure that's a good idea? You need to be able to play right?" Deku reminded her, his eyebrows drawing together with concern.

"Oh, I'll be fine. Charity events are a little more relaxed since they're strictly for fun. Come on!" she exclaimed, squeezing his hand. "Let's do it! It'll be fun!"

"This girl is great," Kirishima remarked, a massive grin on his face. "I like her already. No wonder you guys are so close."

"We should invite Tsu and Jiro," Uraraka suggested.

"Jiro plays the guitar," Bakugo added. "Maybe you two could play something together."

"Oh, I'd love that." Takara finished off her Moscow Mule, fiddling with the handle of the shiny copper cup.

"Want another drink?" Bakugo asked, standing up from his seat. "I'm going to the bar."

"Do you mind?"

"If I did I wouldn't have asked, would I?" He picked up her cup and walked away.

The DJ put on a slow romantic ballad and turned up the volume as if requesting people to go to the dance floor.

"Would you like to dance?" Deku asked her, turning his hand over under hers to hold her hand.

Glancing around, she saw that Bakugo was stuck at the end of a pretty lengthy line of people waiting to order drinks at the bar. It looked like there would be plenty of time for at least one dance.

"Sure," Takara replied, standing up up from her chair for Deku to lead her to the dance floor.

"Well, this is bound to be interesting. I had no idea there would a show after the show," Uraraka murmured, noting the angrier than usual expression on Bakugo's face as he watched his two friends walk to the dance floor hand in hand. "I can't wait to tell the girls about this."

"What do you mean?" Kirishima asked, genuinely bewildered.

"Deku and Bakugo have always been each others biggest competition. It appears they've found something new to fight over," she said, following Bakugo's line of sight to Deku on the dance floor as he took their new lady friend into his arms.

"You don't mean..." Kirishima rejoined, allowing his words to trail off.

"I do."

"How do you think this will turn out?"

"I don't know. In a most unexpected way I'm sure."

On the dance floor, Deku rested his hand at her waist, holding her hand in his hand as he led her around the dance floor. He had learned the basics of ballroom dance at university by taking a class as a filler course to get easy credit. It also improved his coordination and agility, enabling him to pull off some impressive and surprising moves when fighting with criminals to catch them off guard.

"You look very dashing tonight Deku. I can't wait to see you dressed up in a tuxedo," Takara said as they moved amongst the other dancers in the box step of a waltz managing to make their steps match the timing of the rock ballad.

"A tuxedo huh? It's going to be a bit difficult to get Kacchan into one," he commented doubtful Kacchan would be going to the charity concert.

"Mmmm, we'll see. I have faith in him that he will wear the tuxedo. He's as prickly as a porcupine on the surface, but he truly has a heart of gold," she said.

"Don't let him hear you say that, but you're right," he agreed, lowering his hand to her hip. "What's the charity?"

"I support children's hospitals. More specifically the neo natal ward for premature babies. I'm going to visit the local hospital on Monday as a matter of fact."

"I don't have to work until Monday night. Is it okay if I go with you?"

"Sure. I don't mind at all. I'm sure they will be thrilled to have a hero at the hospital. Don't be surprised if they ask you to visit the older children," she warned him.

"I won't mind one bit," he replied, spinning her around in a big circle.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, giggling ecstatically. "You're just full of surprises."

When the song was over, and despite another song fit for slow dancing beginning, Deku led her back to the table where her drink waited for her. As she reached for her cup, Bakugo took her by the hand to drag her back to the dance floor.

"Come on," he said, "my turn for a dance."

"O-okay," she stammered as he swung her around and pulled her into him forcefully.

Once she was in his arms, his grip on her became much looser and gentler. He still held her close, one of his arms locked securely around her upper back under her arm which rested lightly on top of his and her hand lying on his shoulder. Their hands were locked and their elbows raised parallel to the floor. He was leading her in an American Tango. He must have taken the ballroom dancing course too.

"Am I as good a dancer as him?" Bakugo asked her, turning her to change direction back across the dance floor.

"You're very good, Bakugo, uh, I mean Katsuki," she quickly corrected herself.

"Yeah, but am I - "

"Hey," she interrupted him, purposely stepping on his foot.

"Ow! Dammit, that hurt!" he yelled in her face making the other dancers stop and stare at them. He did not seem to notice and kept on dancing despite the stares and the pain in his foot.

"It's not a competition, Bakugo," she said, not using his first name intentionally this time. Her hand lifted from his shoulder to press to his cheek. "I like you for you. Not because you're better than Deku in some way. Neither one of you are winning or losing at some supposed race here. God, you're not in high school anymore, Katsuki. You're both popular heroes well on your way to the top. Why - "

"There's always winners and losers. If you're not number one then you're still a loser," he muttered.

"Oh, Katsuki," she sighed, lowering her hand back to his shoulder. "Just relax and enjoy the evening."

The night continued on, full of drinking and dancing. The crowd began to thin out around one. They left around three at the insistence of her manager. He drove her guests home first then deposited her and her two neighbors at their apartment complex.

At the bottom of the stairs, Takara lifted her foot to place it on the bottom step. Instead of moving forward, she continued falling backwards, right into Bakugo's arms.

"All right then. You're too drunk to walk obviously," he said, standing her back up on her feet.

"I'm fine. I - OH!"

Spinning her around like he had on the dance floor, she shrieked and giggled. Bending down, he pushed his shoulder into her belly, lifting her up to carry her like a sack of potatoes. She cried out and laughed like a madwoman as they bounced up the stairs. He jostled her more than necessary on purpose with each step.

"Yah, mule!" she yelled, slapping him on the ass.

"Hey! Stop that shit!" he hollered back at her.

"Be quiet you two before you wake the whole complex and get us into trouble," Deku admonished the loud and uproarious duo. "Let's put her to bed first."

Deku typed in the code to unlock the door of her apartment. She had their code as well. They had exchanged them for reasons such as this. He held open the door for Kacchan to enter with the inebriated Takara. Rather than stopping at the living room, Bakugo took her straight to her bedroom.

"Turn on a light will you?" he asked Deku when he entered the room behind them.

He flipped the switch as requested to dispel the darkness in the room. Bakugo carefully lay her down on the bed then glimpsed around.

"Huh," he grunted. "This is not what I expected."

"Me either," Deku replied, surprised by the sparse furnishings and stark color scheme of black and white.

The bed was a plain rectangular black platform with drawers built into it and a queen sized mattress on top covered by a cloud like white duvet. There was a square black end table with a white vase bottom lamp with a white lamp shade beside the bed. A black chaise lounge sat in the corner opposite from the bed. A white blanket had been thrown over the back of the lounger and a round fuzzy white pillow lay in the seat. Books filled the small three shelf bookcase beside it turning it into a cozy reading corner.

Takara sat up with a groan. Reaching behind her head, she attempted to unzip the dress. Her uncoordinated arms would not allow her to reach the zipper.

"Hey, guys...can one of you..." She was still trying to reach the zipper but managed to accidentally slap herself in the face. "Ow."

"Pitiful," Bakugo muttered, shaking his head.

"I got it," Deku said, taking her by the hand to stand her up.

He unzipped the dress, his face blushing darker and darker by the second as he revealed more and more of her bare back. His eyes widened, and he was nearly purple when the zipper finally stopped at the lowest park of her back and her dress gaped opened to reveal her entire back and a few millimeters of her butt crack. The only thing that kept the dress from falling was her holding the front against her body with both hands. Glancing over her shoulder at him, she smiled then shuffled off to the bathroom.

"Damn," Kacchan muttered under his breath once the door was shut.

"You saw?"

"How could I not?"

"So what do we do now?"

"What do you mean?" he questioned Deku, sincerely confused as to what he meant.

"I don't think we should leave her alone," he said, taking off his jacket and draping it over the back of the chaise.

"Why not? She's a grown ass woman and can take care of herself. Besides, I'm beat," Kacchan yawned, stretching his arms over his head.

"Then go home," Deku returned a more forcefully. So much so he appeared to surprise himself. "I'll stay."

"I guess we should both stay," he stubbornly insisted, removing his jacket too but carelessly tossing it into the seat of the lounger.

Takara emerged from the bathroom. Her face had been scrubbed clean of all the heavy make up. The clean skin was pink she had scrubbed so thoroughly. Her hair had been brushed and pulled back into a low ponytail. The distinct smell of mint meant she had brushed her teeth as well. She wore a red tank top and red and white plaid shorts that looked like men's boxers.

"Thank you, guys," she mumbled, crawling under the puffy duvet. "You should go home and get some rest. We can go out for breakfast later. Or lunch. I doubt we will be up early enough for breakfast."

"We can stay with you," Deku offered, sitting down on the bed at her head with his back against the wall.

"I'll be fine. I've always been by myself before when I've gotten sloppy drunk. I'm accustomed to waking up alone and hung over. I don't need a baby sitter...or two," she slurred, her words barely understandable.

"We're staying. Move over," Bakugo ordered her, pushing her to the center of the bed. He lay down on top of the cover, turning his back to her.

"Ugh...do whatever you want. Can someone turn out the light?"

~\'/~

* * *

Later that day, Takara awakened to find herself in the most unforeseen circumstance. To her front lay Deku, her face pressed into his chest. His hand lay on her shoulder, holding her close. Behind her, she could feel someone spooning against her, his arm laid over her waist. That someone could only be one person.

Rather than feeling uncomfortable in her position between them, she rather liked it - a lot. The fingers of one of her hands clutched the soft Egyptian cotton of Deku's shirt. Her other hand lay on top of Katsuki's arm at her waist. Her fingers grasped the taut forearm muscle pressing into her palm. Selfishly, greedily, she wanted to hang on to both of them as long as she could.

As she lay there clinging to both of them, she came to the startling conclusion she might have fallen in love with both of them. How would she ever choose between them?

What if neither one of them actually wanted her? The way both of them held onto her presently and the way they took turns dancing with her last night, vying for her time and attention, told her that was definitely not true.

Katsuki moved, his arm enveloping her waist to pull her closer to fit his body more securely to hers. Sensing the movement in his sleep, her body being drawn away from his, Deku gripped her shoulder more firmly, pulling himself closer to her. Their affectionate embrace, even in their sleep, made her wonder if it were possible not to have to make a choice at all. Why should anyone be left out of the relationship?

*What the hell am I thinking?, she chastised herself.

She decided she should get up before she had anymore big ideas while lying between them. Her belly growled. The thought cooking breakfast for all of them crossed her mind which she believed would be a fantastic idea. Although she had mentioned going to a restaurant, she did not feel like doing anything but staying at home today.

Inhaling and stretching her body in a straight line between them, Takara made both of them relinquish their hold on her and simultaneously turn their backs to her so she could shimmy her way down to the end of the bed. Before getting up, she glimpsed back at them but did not give in to the temptation of returning to her spot to snuggle between them.

The first thing she did in the kitchen was grab a bottle of water and two pain reliever tablets for her headache which was actually not too bad considering all of the drinks she had last night. She left the bottle of pain relievers out on the counter for the two sleepyheads.

Deciding on a simple American style breakfast, she scrambled eggs and fried thinly sliced pork belly in the place of bacon. As she was dropping slices of bread into the toaster, she felt the warmth of a presence at her back.

Before she could turn around, a pair of arms slipped around her waist. A tingle rushed through her body as the arms enveloped her in a sweet embrace. The hands of the man who sneak attack hugged her pressed to her belly. Her abdominal muscles tightened in response to the not exactly unwelcome touch.

Takara glanced down at the hands, the palms of which lay flat against her belly. There were no scars on those hands. Then she realized the man standing behind her was much taller than her.

"Bakugo," she gasped.

A soft pair of lips pressed a gentle kiss to sensitive patch of skin behind her right earlobe. Her knees weakened in response to the affectionate and intimate peck.

"Morning," he whispered into her ear, his lips grazing the outer curve. "It's Katsuki, remember?"

"K-K-Katsuki," she stuttered, her lower lip trembling.

"That's better," he murmured, kissing her neck just below her ear.

She bit her lower lip to stop the tremor as well as to hold in the moan of delight from his enticing and tender touch.

"Wh-what are y-you d-doing?" she stuttered when his lips contacted the side of her neck a little lower.

"What does it feel like I'm doing?" he asked, one of his hands lifting from her abdomen. "We slept with my arms around you last night. What's the problem now?"

"But the kiss?"

"Tell me you don't like it, and I'll stop."

His fingers drifted up her arms and across her shoulders. A self-satisfied chuckle rumbled deep in his chest when she inadvertently shivered as goosebumps raised along the electrified trail left his fingertips.

"You shouldn't ..." Her words died away on her tongue when his velvety smooth lips delivered the lightest kiss to her cheek. "We...we...c-can't..."

"Because of Deku?" Katsuki questioned her, dropping his hands from her shoulders and backing away. "You're in love with him."

The blunt, matter-of-fact statement caught her off guard, almost causing her to drop the plate of food in her hand. Quickly setting it back down on the counter with a slight clatter of ceramic against marble, she decided to busy herself with putting two more slices of bread in the toaster.

"What in the world would make you think that?" she asked him in return, keeping her back to him.

"Don't play dumb with me," he snapped at her. "That day, when you were playing and singing the song, I could see your thoughts. I could feel your feelings...your feelings for him."

Takara turned to look at him, resting her hip against the counter mostly to hold herself up as her knees shook like gelatin. To her surprise, Katsuki appeared more sad than angry as he gazed into her eyes. For the first time since she had met him, the emotions in his red orbs were not masked by the perpetual anger he seemed so comfortable with expressing above all other feelings.

Taking a breath, hoping her mouth would form the words, she stepped forward to place her hand on his chest over his heart. She smiled as his eyes shifted from hers down to her hand then back up.

"Katsuki, what makes you think I'm not in love with you too?"

When the meaning of her words soaked through his thick skull, his narrow eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.

"Wha - "

"Morning, guys," Izuku greeted them as he walked the few steps from the short hall to the kitchen area. He rubbed his eyes like a sleepy child and yawned like a roaring lion.

"Morning, Izuku," she greeted him in return. "Hungry?"

"Starving," he yawned, stretching his arms above his head.

Takara could not tell which man was more adorable: the flabbergasted Katsuki or the sleepy Izuku. To offset things before the situation became more awkward, she picked up the plate laden with food and poked Katsuki in the belly with it to get his attention.

"Take this," she said sternly, poking him again when he did not respond. "I'm sure you're hungry too."

The blonde's eyes returned to their normal restricted and annoyed state. However, his mouth tilted into a lopsided, almost mischievous, grin before he said, "You have no idea. I'm more hungry than I've ever been in my life."


	4. Happier

Author's note: Hi all! Please enjoy the new chapter! Thank you so much for the reviews, follows, and favorites.

* * *

Takara could not be happier. She lay on the couch cuddled up next to Izuku with Katsuki sitting on the floor in front of her. Contentedly she dozed with her head against Izuku's brawny shoulder. Suddenly, he jostled her when things grew intense in the video game. Katsuki hissed a curse word through his teeth. Half awake, she reached forward to run her hand through his silky, spiky hair as if soothing an angry beast.

"Awww, man," Izuku groaned when she heard the distinct sounds of his video game avatar meeting an untimely death.

"It's okay, sweetie," she comforted him, patting his thigh as she settled her head back down on his shoulder. "You'll get him next time."

"Stop whining, wuss," Katsuki grumbled.

"Shut up! You're not the one who's dead," she shot back, tugging on the longer hairs on top of his head.

Katsuki grunted and swatted at her hand to shoo her away after pulling his hair.

"Stop...I gotta concentrate, dammit," he growled, the buttons clicking like crazy on his controller.

Takara sighed and stretched her arms above her head. Rather than leaning against Izuku, she extended her body across his lap despite his cross legged sitting position. She laughed lightly as he raised the controller over her to continue playing the game, presently unfazed by her closeness due to being distracted.

What a lovely way to spend a Sunday, she thought, allowing her eyelids to drift closed again. The remainder of Saturday had been spent in her apartment lazing around, watching TV, and ordering out food as they recovered from their hangovers.

Today they were spending time in the guys' apartment. Izuku cooked breakfast this morning, then they settled down to play video games while she did the dishes. It was only fair since Izuku did the cooking. He had washed the dishes yesterday. Next time it would be Katsuki's turn to wash the dishes because he had lucked out of getting stuck with dish duty by chance or by choice so far.

"What are we gonna do for lunch?" she asked, placing her head on her arms folded over Izuku's thigh.

"You hungry?" he questioned her, accidentally elbowing her in the head as he waved the controller around.

"Ow!" She massaged the sore spot on the crown of her head but did not vacate his lap.

"Sorry." He apologized yet kept playing without even a pause.

"You deserved that," Katsuki chuckled meanly, sounding a little too happy about her pain.

"Shut up," she snapped, thumping him on the back of the head. His skull made the hollow sound of a ripe melon.

"Ow! Mean ass," he muttered.

"Take's one to know one," she retorted.

"That's mature," he shot back sarcastically.

"Oh, please," Takara huffed, reluctantly removing herself from across Izuku's legs when he jumped and almost threw her off while executing a move in the video game and obviously helping it along with his body. "I don't understand how you can get so into these video games."

"Why don't you come play and find out?" Katsuki suggested.

"I don't play video games," she replied, standing up from the couch.

"It's really fun. Have you ever played one?" Izuku asked.

"Not even the claw machine at an arcade. And I don't want to play one," she answered, huffing like a snob as she walked in front of Katsuki on her way to the kitchen.

"Come 'ere!" Katsuki growled, grabbing her by the hand before she passed by.

"Hey! Stop!" she wailed in protest as he pulled her down into his lap.

Katsuki positioned her in the hollow made by his cross legged sitting position which was the perfect size and shape to create a seat for her behind. Taking one of her hands, he pressed the controller into her palm and folded her fingers over it.

"What are you doing?" she asked as he did the same with her other hand to make her hold the game controller.

"We're about to pop your cherry video game virgin," he returned, placing his hands over hers.

"Geez, Kacchan," mumbled Izuku, concentrating more on the video game than chastising his friend for being a bit dirty.

Takara exhaled noisily in an effort to convey her annoyance. She tried to wiggle out of his grasp and free her hands from his. He absolutely refused to let go, holding her securely but without hurting her. His ability to be gentle despite his anger and gruffness never ceased to amaze her.

"Katsuki, let me go. I'm thirsty," she whined.

"Just for a minute. Just give it a try," he coaxed her, his breath tickling her neck.

However, when she fully took in her present situation, sitting in Katsuki's lap, his arms wrapped around her and his hands holding hers even if it was over the controller, she decided she might give the video game thing a chance.

Takara looked at the screen trying to figure out what was going on. There were two characters on the screen dressed like medieval knights in full armor which she assumed to be their avatars. She guessed the one with red accents on his silver armor to be Izuku's character and the one in black armor to be Katsuki's. Creatures that resembled humanized bats, as big as a man with the body of one but the face and wings of a bat, dived like birds of prey at the knights. A ghost like woman floated across the screen screaming which made their avatars grunt and groan as if being punched.

"The Banshee is killing us!" Izuku exclaimed, his character waving his sword in the air as he ran after her.

"Kill the Chiropteras," Katsuki commanded her, pushing his thumb down on hers which made his sword slash through the air and cut off the head of the big bat creature standing in front of his knight.

"What about the woman?" she asked as the ghost walked through the screen and the black knight was flung backwards as she passed by.

"Don't worry about her. We can't kill her yet. You're wasting energy, nerd. Stop running after her like an idiot. Damn that bitch," snarled Katsuki, pushing down on her forefinger which opened another screen.

Pictures of little glass bottles filled with different colored potions appeared. Using her fingers to make all the moves, he choose a red potion. The avatar popped it open and drank it.

"What was that?" she asked, growing genuinely curious about the game.

"A healing potion. Kill it! Kill it!" Katsuki yelled when one of the bat demons swept over the head of the knight.

"I'm trying! I'm trying! I don't know how!" she shrieked back, pressing all of the buttons in rapid succession.

The character raised his sword straight up into the air as the bat buzzed him again. The sword struck him in the head and cut his body in two as the momentum of the creature's flight pushed him down the blade.

"Nice! That's the way you do it," he encouraged her.

"Here comes another one! What do I do? What do I do?!" she screeched, growing excited and pressing all of the buttons again.

Katsuki began to patiently explain which buttons controlled which movements. He told her step by step how to execute special moves. Eventually he took his hands away from hers, resting them on her waist in an effort to keep her still because she kept rocking side to side threatening to smash parts of him that should definitely not be smashed.

"You're pretty good at this for a first timer," Izuku complimented her as they decimated the level boss, the vampire who created the bat demons.

"Thanks," she returned, smiling from ear to ear.

"So you like video games now?" Katsuki questioned her with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

Positively elated by their victory, adrenaline surging through her veins, she wanted to continue playing. "Yes! What's on the next level?"

So they played. And played and played for hours. They made it to the final level. The final boss was a dragon guarding a castle and the damsel in distress. A little predictable, but she liked it - a lot.

"That's it! That's it!" Katsuki excitedly exclaimed when she unleashed an atomic attack, a killing blow, that rippled all the way through the castle to destroy the dragon with fire reducing it to a smoking pile of ash in seconds.

"Yay! I did it!" she hollered, climbing out of his lap.

She jumped around and did a little happy dance much to amusement of her friends. Izuku stood up to celebrate their victory with her, taking her into his arms for a congratulatory hug.

"You were amazing," he complimented her, not bothering to remind her she did not defeat the dragon and save the princess by herself.

"That was so much fun," she giggled, embracing him again before he could let her go.

Katsuki stood to his feet, pushing them apart to walk between them to the kitchen. They both stared after him in disbelief. Unconcerned with their gaping, he opened the refrigerator to take out three bottles of water.

"So why don't we go out to celebrate?" Katsuki suggested, handing them the bottles.

Takara snatched the offered bottle out of his hand, swiftly twisting off the cap, and drinking greedily. She had forgotten she was on her way to the kitchen to get a drink when the video game thing started. That had been at least four hours ago. She was positively parched.

"I'm soooo hungry," Izuku moaned, holding his empty belly that rumbled as if on cue.

"Let's go then. Barbecue. My treat," Katsuki offered.

"Wow, thanks, Kacchan," his pleasantly surprised friend returned.

"I should go change," Takara said, going toward the door.

"You look fine the way you are," Katsuki assured her.

She looked down at herself doubtfully. Her cut off denim shorts were so old there was abundance of white fringe around the legs as well as holes worn into back pockets. She wore a baby pink thin strapped tank top and no make up. Her plain black thong sandals were by the door. How could she possibly go out like this?

"Let's go! I'm starving!" Katsuki announced, grabbing her by the hand.

"Wait a minute," Izuku said, hurrying down the hall to his bedroom.

"Come on, nerd, or we're leavin' ya!" the impatient blonde threatened, tugging her toward the door.

"I'm coming!" he called back, coming out of his room with a pile of cloth in his hand.

Izuku approached Takara , handing her the red hoodie made out of thin, super soft t-shirt material. Great for summer and covering her multitude of fashion sins.

"Thanks," she replied, grateful for his thoughtfulness as she pulled on the light jacket.

"Come on, girls! Now that you've had a moment to go over fashion tips, let's go eat!" Katsuki exclaimed in his patent crass manner, stomping to the door.

Takara felt a dry, calloused palm slide across hers just before long, strong fingers encased her hand. She glanced over to see Izuku smiling at her, a blush on his freckled cheeks. Her mouth and throat instantly became as dry as the desert as she looked into his large, innocent green eyes.

"Aren't you hungry?" he asked her when she did not move.

"Uh, y-yeah," she stammered, picking up one of her leaden feet and the other followed suit.

The third of their trio was no where to be found as they walked hand in hand, side by side, down the stairs. At the bottom, Katsuki waited for them, leaning against the banister. The blonde's narrow eyes flickered down to their hands clutched tightly together then up to Takara's face. Izuku's fingers clenched her hand tighter as they continued to move forward toward him.

"It's about damn time. I was beginning to think I was going to be eating by myself."

"We're walking?" she inquired as he fell into step beside her.

"It's not far," Izuku assured her.

"I could the walk anyway." She stretched, placing her hands in the small of back before arching it. "I sat for way too long."

"So do ya like video games now, Princess High and Mighty?" Katsuki asked her.

"Mmm," she hummed thoughtfully, not wanting to admit the truth. But she did anyway. "Yeah. I do like them."

"Hmph," he snorted, his mouth tilting into that arrogant smirk he wears so well.

The back of Katsuki's hand brushed across the back of her free hand as they walked. They continued to swing their arms, their hands skimming across each other from time to time. At the restaurant, he stepped in front of her to slide open the door for her to enter. The aroma of grilled meat made her mouth water.

"Good choice, Sir Grumpypants," she said to him, feeling Izuku's hand slip out of hers.

"Grumpypants?" Katsuki muttered, sneering at her as she walked past him into the restaurant.

"Welcome! Sit anywhere you like," the waitress called to them as she hurried into the kitchen.

They took the table in the corner by the front window. Takara sat beside Izuku on one bench with Katsuki sitting across from her. When the waitress came to their table, Katsuki ordered for everyone. He also turned on the electric grill built into the table so it would be hot and ready when the meat arrived.

"After we eat, why don't we walk around a little? Explore the neighborhood," suggested Izuku, pouring water into her glass from the pitcher the waitress brought them.

"That would be great! I haven't had time to familiarize myself with my surroundings yet," she pointed out. "It will be nice to know where things are around here."

"You're so clueless. I guess we should have showed you around the neighborhood a lot sooner," Katsuki said.

"We really haven't had the time. Hey," she said, reaching across the table to lay her hand on top of his resting on the table top. She also reached over to hold Izuku's hand. "I want to thank you guys for taking care of me. Thank you for being my friends."

"You're very welcome," Izuku returned, his cheeks turning pink.

She adored how he blushed so easily. She squeezed his hand as she smiled at him. When she felt Katsuki's hand slide quickly from under hers, her gaze turned to him.

"The food is here," he explained for the sudden withdrawal of his hand as the waitress set down the platters of raw meat.

"Are you still coming with me to visit the hospital tomorrow?" Takara asked Izuku as Katsuki began laying pieces of steak on the grates.

"Of course. I'll bring my hero uniform along...just in case," he said with a big grin.

"Good idea," she giggled.

"You two are going to babysit on your day off?" Katsuki inquired not having a clue what they were talking about.

"We're going to visit the children's hospital," she clarified.

"Tuesday is my day off. Do you have to go to the conservatory? We could do something...if you want," Katsuki added, busying himself with laying meat on the grill to avoid looking at her.

He was being weird, acting like an awkward teenager asking her out on a date. Was he asking her for a date? She never knew with guy. She believed he was a mystery even unto himself so she certainly could not figure him out.

"I will be back home around two if you want to do something then," she said as he concentrated on cooking the meat to avoid eye contact.

"Whatever. I don't care."

Dammit Katsuki. Just when I begin to think you have a soul. Takara rolled her eyes and sighed.

"I just thought you might want to look around the neighborhood some more. So you won't get lost in your own back yard, you know, like an idiot."

Ugh...

After they finished their meal, took a pleasant walking tour of several blocks around the vicinity of their apartment building. So far she had only been back and forth from the apartment to the conservatory with only two side trips to the grocery store she passed on her commute between those two destinations. She had no idea there were so many amazing places nearby.

There was a clothing boutique, a book seller, several knick knack shops, and variety of other stores including a small grocery store. At this time, they did not go into any of the stores to look around. They would save shopping for another day. There was a small park with a pavilion, a playground for children, and a shrine.

It was a lovely neighborhood with several nice places within walking distance of where she lived. She would no longer have to go to the overcrowded grocery store where she could barely find a parking place. She was finding more and more reasons to stay - and to be happy.

Before heading home, they stopped by the convenience store to buy ice cream. There was actually self-serve soft serve ice cream machine with three basic flavors. Takara picked chocolate, Izuku choose strawberry, and Katsuki took vanilla. The walk home was decidedly more quiet as they ate their ice cream because it was melting fast, dribbling down the cones onto their hands. Despite the sun having gone down, the lingering heat was still sweltering. The sweet treat hit the spot.

"Ugh, I love ice cream but I don't like the sticky hands it leaves behind," Takara groaned as she walked up the stairs, avoiding touching the handrail.

"You shouldn't be so damn messy," Katsuki said.

"Not everyone can eat the whole thing in two bites like you, Kacchan," Izuku defended her. "Want to come in to watch a movie?"

"I would love to watch a movie. But...can I take shower first?" she asked. "I'm a little bit sweaty and yucky after our long walk."

"Prissy damn woman," Katsuki muttered, typing in the code to unlock their door. "Just make it quick. We won't wait all damn night for you."

"Oh, come on Bakugo, me being a prissy damn woman is one of the things you like about me," she teased him, purposely using his last name to convey her annoyance.

"Hmph," he snorted, walking into the apartment.

"I think I'll do the same thing," Izuku said, turning back to look at her from the open doorway. "Just come on in when you're ready. You know the code."

Takara went to her apartment. She had forgotten all about wearing Izuku's hoodie until she took it off. Hugging it to her chest, she held the hood to her nose to breathe in the scent of him. He always smelled clean like soap, the scents of pine and sage intermingling. There was another layer of his scent that met her nose when she breathed in deeper. A bright, citrusy smell something like a lemon. If sunshine had a scent, she was sure that would be it.

Takara lay the jacket over the foot of her chaise lounge. She should take that back to him, but she wanted to wash it first. Undressing as she went, discarding her clothes wherever she happened to be at that second, she left a trail behind her into the bathroom.

Katsuki was right. She was messy. But she would clean it up later so who cares?

Turning on the water in the shower, she brushed out the tangles in her hair as she waited for the water to heat. She thought about how she had fought her manager tooth and nail on his decision to bring her back to Japan. He confessed at last her Father had ordered her to come back. Of course he ordered it. Although an adult with a successful career, her Father still seemed to control her life.

However, her manager had employed his negotiating powers when speaking to her father about the move. He would convince her to come back to Japan, bring her "home" so to speak, scheduling concerts and recording sessions here for one year only. After that, the choice was hers to stay or go. Also, she would have the liberty to live on her own without returning to the family compound. He told her Father she required her own space to rest and regroup as well as perserve her creative abilities.

Takara sighed, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth for no other reason than she felt a sense of peace and contentment she did not think she had ever experienced. She could not recall ever smiling for no real reason except when playing her music. Even happiness when playing her cello had been difficult to come by for a few years now. She had even considered retiring from music entirely. She never imagined she would find everything she ever wanted, and then some, so close to home.

After her shower, she pulled on a pair of purple plaid sleep shorts and a lavender t-shirt. She would be going to bed a few hours so why bother getting dressed up in 'real' clothes. She slipped on her sandals and went next door.

Without knocking, she punched in their code. The beeping of the mechanism then the clicking of the lock would alert them to her presence. When she walked inside, the incredibly pleasing aroma of freshly popped popcorn slathered in tons of butter met her nose.

"Oh, my god, that smells great!" she exclaimed.

"It will be done in a minute. Go ahead and sit down," Izuku told her, waving toward the living room.

Katsuki sat on the couch looking irritated and bored as hell simultaneously as he flipped through the movie titles and descriptions on the streaming service displayed on the TV. Takara sat down on the couch beside him, grabbing the remote out of his hand.

"Hey!" he yelled, attempting to retrieve it from her. "Give that back!"

"You always pick the movie!" she protested, waving her arm around to keep him from touching the remote. "Let me or Izuku pick for a change!"

"No! You'll pick some damn chick flick, and he would pick a movie with talking animals!" he groused, lunging for the remote.

Takara lay back on the couch to distance the remote from his grasping fingers. She stretched her body and her arm as long as they would go so he started crawling up her body. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she pressed her toes against his belly and pushed him back.

Grabbing her ankles, he pushed her legs down onto the couch. Lunging forward for a mad grab at the remote, he landed flat on top of her. She squealed with laughter still trying to keep the remote from him, but her arms just were not long enough.

"Hah! Got it!" Katsuki yelled triumphantly, taking a moment to glare down at her smugly and gloat about his victory.

"Uhm...what are you two doing?" Izuku questioned them.

The two indicated in his question craned their necks to him standing at the end of the couch. His eyes were bigger and rounder than normal which made them realize how compromising their present position must look.

"Ahhhh...nothin'," Katsuki answered, sitting up quickly to retreat to his corner of the couch. "She stole the remote and wouldn't give it back."

"Oh, okay," murmured Izuku, satisfied with the answer as he took a seat beside her.

Takara sat on the middle cushion, leaning toward Izuku. She was not sure what to think about what just happened. They were just playing around, but how must that have looked to Izuku? Her cheeks heated with embarrassment.

After sitting the single large popcorn bowl in her lap, Izuku put a protective, and possibly possessive, arm across her shoulders pulling her closer to him until her thigh pressed firmly along his.

"What are we watching?" Izuku asked.

"Here," Katsuki said, extending the remote to him. "I can't find anything. You choose."

Takara could not keep the smile from forming on her face. Just as Katsuki had suspected, Izuku choose an old movie that was part animated talking animals, part real people, and all romance. She cast the blonde a sidelong glimpse expecting him to insult his roommate's choice by viciously attacking his taste in movies. But to her great surprise, he never did. He rolled his eyes then sat quietly without protest as the movie began.

She reached into the bowl for popcorn and fingers brushed the back of her hand. The fingertips were smooth as they skimmed across the back of her hand again then dug into another part of the bowl. Her breath caught in her throat because those fingers belonged to Katsuki. For his personality to be so harsh and abrasive there were so many soft and gentle things about him.

A few minutes later, they were both digging in the popcorn bowl again. This time Katsuki's forefinger ran across the middle of her palm. The unexpected touch tickled her and made her heart skip a few beats. Undercover flirt. Turning her head to look at him, she saw that he was staring at her, his eyes intense, almost glowing in the dim blue light eminating from the TV screen. Her body inadvertently shuddered in reaction; not in disgust but something else entirely - a feeling that made her warm, a little too warm, inside.

"Are you cold? I'll go get you a blanket," Izuku said before she even replied.

What would she say? No, I'm not cold just turned on by our friend over here? God...

"Oh, you don't have to do that," she heard herself saying.

"It's fine. I don't mind," he assured her, slowly peeling his arm from around her shoulders as he stood up.

"But - " she tried to protest but he was already walking down the hall.

Right this second Takara actually feared being alone with Katsuki because she had no idea what he might do next - or what she would do in response. Not that she thought he might hurt her. Oh, no, she was not afraid of that at all. She could tell he wanted to do really good things to her in a bad way. The wait to find out what exactly he would do was not long.

In a matters of seconds, she found herself in his arms being held firmly to his chest in an astonishingly innocent embrace. His cheek pressed to hers so closely she could feel the muscles of his jaw moving against her skin. His lips were positioned by her ear, so close that when he spoke his warm breath made the muscles of her back tighten with a painful intensity from excitement. The man gave intense hugs which certainly suited his aggressive personality.

"If Izuku wants the first kiss, he better hurry. I know he's shy, but he better kiss you before I do," he whispered as if warning her of some type of impending doom.

"Well, isn't that kind of you to give him first dibs," she retorted curtly, pushing against his shoulders with her hands. He held her so tightly she could not budge her body one inch away from him. "I'm not some kind of prize for you two fight over."

"Oh, there won't be a fight, I assure you," he said, releasing her. He immediately scooted back into his corner to resume staring at the screen.

"Here ya go," Izuku declared, spreading the blanket over her.

The blanket was royal blue one side and red on the other. It looked just like All Might's cape. She smiled at Izuku and wanted to hug him tight. A grown man and still an All Might fanboy. He is too sweet and unassuming. She pulled the blanket up to her chin. The material was so soft and fuzzy.

"How's that?" he asked, tucking her back under his arm after sitting down.

"Good. It's very good," she sighed, laying her head on his shoulder.

"You can put your feet in my lap to get really comfortable," Katsuki offered, reaching down to grab her ankles and lift her feet up.

Well, since he was not really giving her a choice in the matter, she did as he suggested, extending her legs to place her feet in his lap while leaning back against Izuku's side. The man behind her draped his arm across her shoulder and between her breasts, his hand lightly cupping her hip. Perhaps he was not so clueless and naive as to not know what was happening here between the three of them.

Katsuki tucked the blanket around her feet to make sure she was fully covered, then laced his fingers together behind his head to keep his hands away from her. Fifteen minutes later, when she began to doze off, he stood up making quite a show of stretching and yawning.

"Well, I'm off to bed," he announced. Walking down the hall, he called back over his shoulder, "Good night, Princess. Good night, Nerd."

"Good night, Kacchan," Izuku called after him.

"Good night," Takara responded as well.

Picking up the remote, she checked the time on the television. 8:03. What the hell?

"It's barely past eight," she remarked.

"Yeah. We've been keeping him up way past his bed time," Izuku returned, patting her hip to reassure her it was perfectly normal for him to go to bed so early.

"Huh...that man never ceases to surprise me," she murmured, turning to snuggle into Izuku.

Soon the both of them were asleep as well.

~\\./~

* * *

By morning, they were a tangle of arms and legs, her head lying on Izuku's chest over his heart, she listened to the steady beat as the gray light of the dawning day filtered through the vertical blinds into the room. So nice. So content. So happy.

"Hey," Katsuki whispered above her, startling her.

Takara never even heard him come down the hall, not a footfall not a creak of the hardwood flooring. Izuku did not stir under her despite her violent reaction, the sudden jerking of her entire body, at the sound of Katsuki's voice. She carefully sat up, moving cautiously as not to wake him.

"Morning," Katsuki greeted her, moving toward her from behind the couch with a lopsided grin on his face.

"Morning. You could have stayed here and slept with us," she murmured, giving him a sleepy smile.

"I'm sure I slept better and much more comfortably than you," he said, patting her head as if she were a child.

"Oh, I don't know about that. I was pretty happy where I was," she returned, standing up.

"You both appeared pretty content." The corner of his mouth dropped and his lips formed a straight line. He did not seem angry though. Sad maybe. He was so adept at covering his emotions with a constant simmering rage that if another emotion entered his eyes became somewhat flat and unreadable.

"Are you leaving for work this early?"

"Yeah. I just wanted to say something before I left," he murmured, beckoning for her to follow him.

"O-okay," she stuttered, moving away from the couch to the kitchen.

Takara gasped when he cupped her jaw with one hand, his long fingers extending into her hair. She held her breathe as he tilted her face upward to make her look into his eyes.

"Did he get that kiss?" he questioned her, his thumb stroking across her cheek gently.

"No. He didn't," she confessed. "Bakugo, look there's something I need to tell you."

"You're upset with me," he stated rather than asked.

"Huh? Why do you think that?" His perceptiveness stunned her.

"You call me Bakugo when you're upset with me. Are you angry with me?"

"Not angry. I'm not mad or sad or...oh, hell I'm not sure what I am. I'm confused. Definitely confused," she confessed, lowering her eyes from his soul piercing gaze.

"About what?"

"About how I feel about you and Deku. I like him. But I also like you. I think..." She hesitated, chewing on her lower lip, wondering if she should say the next words rattling around in her brain. Her eyes connected with his before she made her confession. "I think I'm in love with you." She wrung her hands, her entire body shaking. "Both of you."

"Huh," he scoffed, that self assured cocky grin curling up one corner of his mouth. "I thought so."

"You did?" She felt even more confused, her eyes searching his for an explanation to clarify exactly what he knew, when, and how.

"I did. We haven't talked about it but...well...the funny thing is...I think we're both in love with you too," he admitted, lowering his hand from her face.

Katsuki turned his back to her to slip his feet into his running shoes in preparation to leave.

"So what do we do?" she inquired, staring at his back.

"I don't know. Guess we'll have to figure it out." His slightly gravelly voice sounded pensive, calm, almost kind.

"I can't choose between you," she said, placing her hand on the door handle over his to keep him from opening it.

He turned his head to look at her, a small somewhat amused smile on his lips like one smiles at a precious child who has just said something comical yet endearing.

"I wouldn't ask you to choose. Just like it would be unfair of you to ask us to decide between the two of us who will be with you."

"Katsuki - "

Her words fled when he inclined his head those few inches toward hers to kiss her forehead.

"Hey, don't worry about it. Like I said, we'll figure it out."

Pushing down on the handle, he freed his hand from hers and opened the door after she stepped back. He left without another word. When the door closed, she leaned against it, pressing her fingertips to her forehead where he kissed her.

"We'll figure it out," she murmured to herself.

"What?" Izuku asked sleepily from the couch.

Takara jumped, pressing her hand against her chest to hold back her runaway heart.

"Did you ask me something?" he questioned her, sitting up to glance at her.

"No. I was just talking to myself," she said, walking toward him. Sitting down on the couch beside him, she greeted him properly. "Good morning. How did you sleep?"

"Pretty good actually," he replied, stifling his yawn. "You?"

"Quite well."

"When do you want to leave to go to the hospital?"

"I usually get there around nine in the morning when I go."

"In that case, I'll cook breakfast. Then we can get ready and leave. Does that sound like a good plan?"

"Sounds good to me," she agreed, following him into the kitchen. "Want me to help with breakfast?"

"No, I got it. You can make coffee if you want. I bought some because I know you like it," he informed her, opening the cabinet to show her the bag of coffee, filters, and tiny three cup coffee pot he purchased just for her.

"Oh," she gasped, flinging her arms around his neck. "You are so sweet and thoughtful."

As much as she enjoyed hugging him, Takara had to let him go in order to make herself a cup of coffee. Once the machine was prepared and the coffee brewing, she stood beside Izuku as he beat eggs in a bowl with a pair of chopsticks. She was too impatient to walk away from the little machine that was working as fast as it could. While waiting she opened the cabinet next to the sink to get a mug. She even poured a little bit of milk in it in anticipation of the coffee being ready.

"You can pull the pot out even though it isn't done yet. There's a flow shut off that triggers when you remove the pot," Izuku informed her, pouring the eggs into the hot skillet to scramble them.

"Really?"

She immediately grabbed the pot and pulled it out. Sure enough, only a few drops escaped sizzling when they hit the warmer plate below. After filling her cup, she took a sip. The warmth flowed down her throat, through her chest, and continued spreading through her entire body. A sense of well being and relaxation flowed over her as she sighed happily. This must be what it feels like when an addict takes a hit of their chosen drug.

Izuku chuckled at her. "You're not complicated at all. You like the simple things in life. You're easy to please."

"I hope that's a good thing," she said, looking at him over the top of her mug.

"I think it is," he murmured, turning his head to look at her. "I like making you happy. I want to make you happy."

"You do," she assured him, stepping toward him. She placed her hand on his cheek, pushing her fingers through his hair in an affectionate gesture. "You have already made me very happy."

Pink coloration flooded his cheeks. Shyly, he looked away, turning his attention back to eggs cooking the pan.

Takara thought for sure that would be the moment he would her, but he did not. Oh, well...

~\\./~

* * *

Takara strolled through the lobby of the hospital straight to the elevators. Heads turned and watched with great interest. But they weren't looking at her. They were staring at the man walking behind her. Despite not being in uniform, they still recognized him as the hero Deku.

While waiting for the elevators, a girl of about twelve years old approached him with a notebook and pen in hand. She had shoulder length brown hair and eyes the same color that were warm and friendly. For some reason, there was something familiar about the girl.

"Excuse me," the girl said, her voice quivering due to her nervousness.

"Oh, hello," Deku patiently greeted her as she extended the notebook and pen to him.

"Do you mind?" she inquired expectantly.

"No. Not at all. What's your name?"

"Nao," she replied.

"N...A...O," he spelled out loud as he wrote. "Are you here visiting someone?"

"No, Sir, I'm not," she responded politely, a sadness stealing the warmth from her eyes. "I'm here for a routine test to make sure my leukemia is still in remission."

Takara covered her mouth with her hand before she could make a noise of shock. At last she recognized the girl. She had visited her here when the child was much younger, probably about eight or nine. At the time Nao had no hair, her eyes were sunken, her skin sallow, her body emaciated ravaged by the course of chemotherapy she was only halfway through completing.

"Oh," he gasped, the pen pausing in midair. "You're a very brave girl, Nao. You're the real hero here."

"Nah, not really," she timidly returned, her cheeks turning pink. "The last time I tested, I got good news. Hopefully I will again."

"Me too," he rejoined, giving her one of those thousand watt smiles.

The girls beamed back at him, rocking and forth on her heels. Her eyes ran around the room nervously, skimming over Takara. Noticing her for the first time, the girl craned her head around Deku to see the woman standing behind him a little better. Her eyes widened in recognition, the happiness flooding back and warming their chocolate colored depths.

"Oh, Miss Otani! It's so good to see you again!"

The girl rushed forward to hug her which she accepted happily with tears in her eyes.

"It's good to see you again too, Nao," she said in return.

"Are you both here to visit the kids?" the girl asked, stepping back toward Deku.

"We are. I even brought a hero with me today," she announced proudly, patting him on the shoulder.

"Wow," Nao sighed, taking the notebook and pen back from Deku. "Miss Otani, is he your boyfriend?"

Deku's face instantly became red as a ripe apple.

"Uh...uhm...well...he's a good friend," Takara replied diplomatically. He wasn't her boyfriend - yet.

"Aww," the girl moaned in disappointment. "I was hoping he was. That would be awesome!"

The bell on the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.

"Well, we have to go," Takara proclaimed, stepping inside. "Bye, Nao."

"It was great meeting you," Deku said, getting into the elevator as well.

"Bye, Miss Otani! Bye, Deku!" she called back to them before the doors closed to carry them away.

"Well," Deku inhaled, his voice softer than usual and a little sad. "That was something...unexpected. But she seemed genuinely happy. Seeing her smile like that made me happy too."

"That is why I do what I do. That's why I visit these children. I'll admit it's not all about what I'm doing for them. They help me a great a deal and give me a lot of joy in return. It's rush you know. Seeing them smile or laugh...forgetting for just a moment the horrible thing they're going through. I bet you know what that's like when you swoop in and do your hero thing, helping someone at the absolute worst moment in their life. I can't imagine what it feels like to save someone's life."

"Actually, it feels kinda like that. Probably a bigger adrenaline rush," he admitted with a smile. "Besides, I think in a way, you kind of do save these kid's lives."

"They have saved mine that's for sure."

After a short pause, Deku cleared his throat.

"Takara?"

"Hmm?"

He hesitated, shifting his duffel bag from one shoulder to the other.

"Do you want children someday?"

At first the question caught her off guard, but she quickly recovered her presence of mind. It was just a simple question, nothing more.

"Yeah. Someday."

The elevator doors opened to their floor. Takara led him to the nurses station where she greeted the three nurses by name. All three of the women gaped at Deku.

"I've brought a special guest today," she announced despite not having to do so. "Is that okay?"

"Is that okay?" one of the nurses repeated, breaking into a wide grin. "That's more than okay! The kids are gonna love him!"

"I brought my hero costume. Is there somewhere I can get changed?" he asked, holding up his duffel bag.

"Sure!" the other two nurses exclaimed in unison. They scrambled around the desk to take him by the arms to usher him into the head nurse's office across the hall.

The other nurse rolled her eyes and shook her head, chuckling lightly at her overenthusiastic coworkers who stood guard, one on either side of the office door.

"The only people he needs to be protected from is you two," she teased them as she walked around the desk to greet Takara. "Come on. I'll take you to the kids. At the moment we've got a large group I'm afraid. The ones well enough for visitors are all in the same room together."

Takara's stomach dropped to her kness upon hearing that. Her belly fluttered nervously as they reached the door to the first room. In the room there were ten beds, five beds along each wall, boys on one side and girls on the other.

The children ranged in ages six to twelve suffering from chronic but non contagious conditions. They were always the toughest to get through to because most of them had been in and out of hospitals all of their young lives.

Takara plaster on a smile before entering the room. The last thing those kids needed to say was a frown and a pitying expression.

"Hey kiddos, I've brought you a visitor," the nurse announced as she brought Takara into the room.

The children perked up a bit, sitting up in their beds to get a look at their visitor. They seemed disappointed to see that it was just some woman. That did not bother Takara. She was accustomed to this reaction. Kids weren't typically among her fan base. However, usually when she began talking to them, playing games, reading stories and such, they warmed right up to her. Sometimes she wondered if they thought she was just another person coming to poke, prod, or study them as if they were some lab animal.

"Hi, kids. My name is Takara Otani. I also brought a friend with me. He'll be here in just a minute. Does anyone want to play a game?" Takara asked receiving dubious or bored expressions in return. "Card game? Old maid? Poker?"

She smiled feeling a sense of relief when the last suggestion garnered a titter of laughter from the older children who knew what poker is.

"How about a board game?" she ventured going to the cabinet in the corner beside the door where they were located.

They never changed the layout of this place. Perhaps it offered a sense of famliarityand comfort to the children treated here frequently

"So who is this friend of yours lady?" a boy of about ten with angry eyes and no hair questioned her. "And why should we care?"

There was a tentative knock on the door. Great timing. Takara quickly moved to the door to open it with a flourish in order to reveal Deku in his full hero costume. This time he was wearing his mask which stunned her. He looked like a gigantic scary rabbit, the metal part of the mask covering the lower half of his face resembling a maniacal grin.

"Holy sh - "

"Takara, the kids," he hissed before she could say the entire word, the mask giving his voice an odd robotic sound.

"Deku!" the younger children called out in unison.

The older kids tried not to act impressed or the least bit thrilled when he entered the room. As the younger children gathered around him, giggling and jabbering all at once, the older kids felt free to express their interest in greeting the hero in their midst.

Takara backed away to make room for all of them, watching Deku as he patiently allowed the children to touch his leg braces and gloves while trying to answer the numerous questions hurled at him all at once.

A six year old boy with a prosthetic leg from the knee down took great interest in the metal braces on Deku's legs. The other small child, a tiny little girl too small for her age, held out her arms to be picked up by him. Her fingers explored the mask on his face.

"What do you look like under that mask?" asked an eight year old girl dragging her IV pole behind her.

Kneeling down, Deku carefully set the frail child in his arms down on her feet. Staying on his knees to remain eye level with most of the children, he pulled away the metal bottom portion of the mask, lowering it around his neck. Then he pushed back the hood to reveal his entire face and his excessively messy hair.

"You're kinda cute," said a girl of about twelve. Bandages covered her arms from her wrists to her elbows. Although young, her waist length hair was white as snow.

"Thanks. You remind me of someone I know," he said to her.

Who could that be? Takara pondered.

"Tell me your names," he said.

Each one announced their name in turn. None of them offered any information about their condition nor did he or Takara ask. It didn't matter anyway. Once the initial excitement of meeting the hero died down and their questions sufficiently answered, they brought out a few board games to play. They laughed and talked about any subject the children wanted to discuss.

"Why don't you tell us a story?" an eight year old boy named Takeshi requested, obviously growing bored with the games.

"Okay. Sure. I can read something," Deku said, looking at the shelf of books in the cabinet.

"No, tell us a story...tells us about one of your hero adventures or make up something," clarified the older girl named Nana. "We've read those books a thousand times."

"O-okay," he replied nervously.

"I've got an idea," Takara said, coming to his rescue which must be a change for him. "Not only will we tell you a story. We'll act it out too. But all of you will have to help out as well. Okay?"

"Okay!" they replied in an excited chorus.

"Well, he's the hero, of course!" exclaimed Haruhi, pointing at Deku. "So you be the girl he saves."

"That's a good start," she returned. "What else?"

"Make it romantic," requested Nana.

"Ew, no," moaned Rei the boy with a bald head and anger issues.

"You can be the bad guy, Rei," Nana suggested. "You look like a villian."

"Be nice! Anyway...come on, Deku, save me," she said, giving him a wink. Employing her acting skills, she grimaced to transform her face into a distressed expression. "Help! Help! Oh, where is a hero when you need one?"

"Never fear! I am here!" Deku proclaimed, sliding up next to her.

"Gee, that sounds familiar," she mumbled, grinning at him.

"I couldn't help it. I had to say it. He was my mentor after all," he said to her in a low voice. He swept her up into his arms in a princess carry which made her cry out in surprise. Speaking more loudly, he said, "I will save you."

"Not so fast!" yelled Rei, hopping out of his bed. He extended his hands, fingers outstretched toward Deku. He wiggled his fingers as if exacting some kind of mind control on him. "Drop the girl, Deku! She's mine!"

Deku's arms actually tightened around her shoulders and under her knees, pulling her closer into his body.

"Drop me," Takara hissed at him.

"But I can't. I don't want to hurt you," he whispered back.

"Drop me. I'll be fine. I swear," she promised him.

"Okay."

Deku lowered her legs a bit so she would be able to get them under her before hitting the floor, then he cautiously dropped his arms as if he had lost control of his body. Takara lowered herself to the floor in a controlled fall. She grabbed her ankle, pretending to be injured.

Deku stood back up straight, holding his back stiff with his arms extended in front of him and his eyes staring blankly ahead.

"You're under my control now, Deku," Rei said issuing a laugh worthy of any good villain.

"Deku! Deku! Oh, no! That terrible villain has control over him," she proclaimed being purposely melodramatic. Overacting made the children giggle. "Is there anyone who can help us?"

"I can!" yelled Nana, snatching the sheet from the bed and tying it around her neck. Grabbing her pillow, she flung it at Rei. "I'll bash you with my giant marshmallows until you let him go!"

Gales of laughter erupted from everyone in the room. They continued on with their play. The other children joined in on the fun one by one, each one choosing if they wanted to be a hero or a villain as the battle raged on. There would be a happy ending today. The hero saved the girl and defeated the villains with a little help from his hero friends.

"Deku," Takara said, taking his gloved hands in hers. "I can't thank you enough for saving me."

Looking up at him, she could not contain her smile. This had been more fun than she had ever imagined they could have considering the circumstances. The children appeared to have liked it too as they sat on their beds, all smiling broadly as they watched the conclusion of their little play.

"Aw, I was just doing what heroes do. No thanks are necessary," he said, pulling his hands from hers to strike an official hero pose with his hands on his hips and his chest puffed out.

Lord, he looked like All Might standing there like that.

"We want a romantic ending," Nana demanded impatiently.

"Shh, I'm getting there," Takara said in a stage whisper. She rushed forward, laying her cheek against his chest. "But Mr. Hero, there's something more you should know."

"And what is that?" he inquired in his best All Might baritone.

"I think...I think..." Her mouth went dry. She might have made a mistake by choosing this path. She might not be able to say the words because she actually meant them. "I think I love you."

"I think I love you too!" he responded, giving her a hug.

"Oh, come on!" Nana moaned with obvious disappointment.

"Ugh," groaned Takeshi, slamming his face into his pillow.

"What's wrong?" Deku asked, befuddled by their reactions. "The hero saved the girl. The girl is in love with the hero. What more do you want?"

"A hug? Really?" she snapped, lifting a questioning eyebrow.

"What am I supposed to do?" Deku asked.

Takara could not tell if he was acting now or if he was seriously that clueless.

"You kiss her, dummy!" answered Rei who had been completely against the romance in the beginning.

"Kiss her? Should I kiss her?" Deku asked the kids.

"Yes!" the answered together enthusiastically.

Deku turned to Takara. His face was so red it almost glowed. She would swear she could feel the heat radiating from his skin due to the intense blush.

"Takara, is it okay if we - "

Without allowing him to finish the question, she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his. The children issued a collective "ooh" and clapped at the conclusion of their little story.

Deku's lips were silky soft and enticingly compliant under hers. She wanted to ravage his mouth, to kiss him hard and long, however, considering they had an audience, and a young audience at that, she kept the kiss brief and chaste.

"You really are my hero, Deku," she said when their eyes met.

"Takara, I - "

"We should say our farewells to the children. I'm sure they need to rest now. "We've had a lot of fun today. Thank you."

"Yeah. I can't wait to do it again."

"We should back to the children," she reminded him when his eyes remained steadfastly on hers, his hands grasping her upper arms.

"Oh, yeah," he said, releasing her and backing away a step or two. "You're right. We should probably get ready to leave so they can rest."

Takara smiled then walked away from him. She did not know if he meant visiting the children or kissing her when he said he could not wait to do it again. Whichever one he meant, she would be more than happy to take him up on the offer.

This was not how she wanted their first kiss to go, but it wasn't so bad. Maybe now with the initial awkward contact out of the way Deku would be a little braver and take the initiative to kiss her next time.


	5. The Sheep in Wolf's Clothing

Bakugo slipped into the back of the auditorium. Subtlety is not typically one of his qualities, but he wanted to surprise Takara. Taking people unawares and scaring the hell out of them are in his repertoire of special skills.

No one had tried to stop him as he walked through the halls to get here. The lack of security was beneficial but disturbing all at the same time. But thankfully a place like this is not typically the target of bad people who want to commit dirty deeds.

Longing gazes, demure smiles, and batting eyelashes from pretty women had welcomed him right in. A few glares of disdain and disapproval from a few guys had pegged him as an interloper. Those nasty looks were mostly to warn him to stay away from their girlfriends who they clutched at the waist to hold them to their sides in a flashy show of insecurity. Idiots.

Bakugo sat on top of the flipped up cushion of the movie theater style seat using his body weight to force it down. Stretching out his legs, he propped his booted feet on the back of the seat in front of him to lean back and watch the musicians on stage.

Everyone was out of their chairs, the incredibly uncomfortable looking metal folding chairs, and milling about the stage. Up front, Takara stood beside a fellow musician; a man who appeared he should be in high school instead of here with professional musicians. Another child prodigy maybe. Takara Otani had been one and began performing with professionals around the world before reaching thirteen.

A smile spread across his face when he fully took in her appearance. Takara had rolled her faded ripped jeans up to her knees, leaving the cuffs uneven in size and crooked from each other on her legs. Half of her button down shirt was tucked in while the other half hung out sloppily over her hip. Her hair had been pulled up into pigtails on each side of her head. She had even taken off her shoes to complete her hillbilly look.

The young man with a violin stood beside her wearing jeans, a plaid shirt, and a straw cowboy hat. He still wore his brown loafers but had at least cuffed his jeans. He had not quite invested as much effort and embraced the country bumpkin look as Takara had.

_What in the hell are they doing? Must be a skit or something for the charity performance Saturday night _, he thought, lacing his fingers behind his head.

When she smiled and laughed at something the conductor said, the smile broadened on his face. The muscles in his cheeks stretched beyond their usual capacity began to cramp from the unfamiliar expression.

Becoming aware he was simpering like a complete moron, probably wearing one of those dumb ear to ear grins always on Deku's face, he quickly forced the corners of his mouth downward into a frown. His facial muscles immediately relaxed after maintaining a more natural state - for him.

His stomach clenched when Takara nodded and raised her bow. She was about to play. He loved to hear her play. Only seven short chords filled the air. Then her counterpart with the violin played the same notes as if responding back to her in music rather than voice. The back and forth continued, the sound and intensity rising as they dueled with their instruments.

Bakugo checked his watch. Ten minutes until two. Soon she would be all his. His eyes went back to her on the stage, following her every movement as she pulled down her hair, tucked in her shirt and rolled down her pants. She made no move to retrieve her shoes.

They were not done yet. His belly quivered in anticipation. Joined by the entire orchestra, she and the violinist launched into a rock style rendition of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony.

The hairs on his arm stood on end as an electrical energy permeated the air in the empty theater with him being the only audience member. The entire orchestra played as if their lives depended on, putting their heart and soul into the music despite the fact no one was watching save one sneaky music fan.

Goosebumps broke out over his entire body. The muscles throughout his body contracted as a vision filled his head. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to be transported to a different place via her imagination.

A storm raged around him. The drums rumbled like thunder in his ears. The cymbals made flashes of lightning appear. The cold rain pattered against his skin, chilling him and making his taut muscles cramp.

Run. He had the urge to run. Chase. _She is close. Run faster, _the voice in his head urged him, prompting him to lunge forward onto all fours like an animal. More specifically, a wolf: a predatory canine.

Search. Find. Attack. A streak of white int he darkness caught his keen eyes. _Just a ahead. She is right there. Be prepared._

In front of him there was a woman in white. Her flowing dress billowed out behind her like the sail of a ship. Her bare shoulders glistened in the blue white flare of lightning. Her rain soaked black hair lay plastered to her back.

Close. Closer still. His sharp teeth nipped at the hem of her dress so close to his snout it teased his nostrils with her heady scent of peaches and cinnamon, a blend of sweetness and spiciness.

The muscles in his legs screwed up in preparation to launch his body at her. Before he pushed his feet off the ground, she glanced back, her eyes wide but the beginning of a smile on her cherry red lips. Come and get me, she seemed to be saying with that odd little grin.

In the vivid fantasy, he sprang at her, his arms enclosing her waist and dragging her to the ground. They tumbled together for several feet. The verdant and clean aroma of the crushed, rain washed grass surrounding them.

When they came to a stop, he was lying on top of her, his chest pressed to her back and his arm trapped beneath her. He could feel her deep, labored breathing not only through her heart beating through his chest but also by the way his body lifted a few inches upon each strained inhale.

Her neck and shoulder lay bare before him, a wide swathe of milk white flesh. Extending his tongue, he took a taste of the tender skin. Her breathing changed, becoming slower and deeper. Her shuddering sigh vibrated his body.

He lowered his lips to her skin. The shaking of her body prompted him to open his mouth. The elongated canine teeth revealed when his lips peeled back glimmered in another spark of nature's sudden bright light followed by thunder reminiscent of a low guttural groan.

Then it stopped. The dream-like state halted thrusting him back into reality. The music had ended. The conductor clapped for his musicians who started clapping for themselves and each other.

"Great rehearsal people!" he could hear the man saying to them. "Saturday is going to be amazing! We're going to raise lots of money for those children. Everyone rest and relax and I'll see you tomorrow for rehearsal."

Bakugo took a moment to calm his breathing, making his heart rate and respiration return to normal before he dared to go to her. He had not expected to be taken on such a sexually charged mind-trip as a werewolf. But oh how he likes the way she thinks.

Takara faced away from him putting away her cello as he approached the stage. The conductor further distracted her by speaking to her, allowing him to sneak up behind her. The man's brilliant blue eyes met his briefly acknowledging his presence as he paused at the side of the stage on the floor level, but the older gentleman never let on to her that he was there.

"So you think we're good to go on the skit for Saturday?" Takara asked the Maestro.

"Is good, is good," he assured her enthusiastically in his heavily accented voice. "Bellissima!"

Bakugo placed his hands flat on the stage, effortlessly pulling his body up the distance almost the length of his entire body. Soundlessly his feet hit the floor bringing him to a crouching position before he stood up straight. Standing behind her, he waited patiently for a lull in the conversation before speaking.

"Hey," he said in a low voice.

The single syllable might as well have a been a gunshot by the way it made her jump. She released an ear drum bursting shriek that made the men flinch in return. Both men laughed at her while she glared furiously at the blonde who had frightened her.

"Bakugo that was just mean," she snapped, stomping her foot like a petulant terrible two about to throw a tantrum.

"You're cute when you're angry," Bakugo said which made her face turn from pink to crimson.

"Who's this?" the Maestro inquired when she did not introduce them.

"Katsuki Bakugo, sir," Bakugo said to introduce himself, bowing respectfully.

"Oh!" the man gasped, suddenly recognizing him from the fantasy scenario supplied by his cellist. He extended his hand to shake Bakugo's. "Oh, Mr. Wolf so nice to meet you."

It was Takara's turn to laugh.

"Bakugo, this is Maestro Giovanni Donati," she said once her giggling subsided.

"So are you here to take mi cara home?" the grandfatherly man asked repositioning his small round lensed wire rimmed glasses on his definitely Romanesque nose.

Bakugo thought his wispy white hair poking out all over his head made him look a little bit like Albert Eistein. If the man only had a moustache, he would bear a striking resemblance to the long dead genius.

"I'm here to take her on a date," he responded.

"A date?" Takara and Maestro Donati said in unison.

"But my cello...I can't leave it in the car," she said regretfully.

Bakugo understood her instrument is a veritable extension of her body. No more and no less important than one of her limbs. In his excitement to plan the surprise date he had forgotten about what to do with the cello.

"I will take it for you," the Maestro volunteered, standing up the case that was almost as tall as him and much wider than his rail thin body. Despite his frail appearance, he easily picked up the instrument in preparation to carry it. "I will bring it to you tomorrow for practice. Okay?"

"But what if I want to play before then?" Takara questioned him.

"No!" the Maestro yelled without turning around. "You rest. You go on date with your boyfriend. Have some fun." He stopped to turn around. Winking at them, he joked, "But not too much fun, eh?"

"See you tomorrow, Maestro," she returned, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

"Ready to go?" Bakugo asked, offering her his arm to escort her down the stairs.

"Oh, yes," she replied excitedly, putting her arm through his. "So where are we going?"

"That's a part of the surprise in the surprise date," he reminded her, leading her down the steep and narrow stairs. "He calls you Kara?"

"Mi cara," she corrected him, using an accent when saying the words. "It means my dear one. He's called me that since I met him. He conducted the first orchestra I performed with when I was twelve. He's always been like a grandfather to me. He's my absolute most favorite conductor."

"Music really has always been your life hasn't it?"

"Uh huh. I'm closer to my manager and the Maestro than I am my own parents."

"Well. you have two more people in your life who love you now," he said before he could stop the words from coming out of his mouth. He cleared his throat, his frown deepening. "I find you tolerable. Unlike most people I meet."

"Thanks," she chuckled lightly. As they stepped outside, it occurred to her he always took the bus or walked to get around. "We could take my car if we need to."

"Don't worry. We have transportation," he assured her, leading her down the sidewalk.

A gorgeous shiny red and black motorcycle had been parked on the sidewalk rather than the asphalt of the parking lot. Two red helmets with black face shields sat on the black leather seat. A picnic basket had been strapped to the small metal rack over the back wheel.

Bakugo could feel her trembling as she clung to his arm, pressing her body closer to his.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I've never ridden on a motorcycle," she admitted.

"Are you afraid?" He glanced at her to see her staring at the bike as if it were a snake that might bite her.

"No. Not really. Excited...I guess." She reluctantly let him go as he stepped toward the vehicle.

"Put this on," he ordered her gently, extending the helmet to her. "Hang on tight, and you'll be fine."

Bakugo zipped up his leather jacket as he straddled the bike. While putting on his helmet, he felt her sliding onto the seat behind him. The involuntary smile curled his lips as she enclosed his waist with her arms, pressing her chest to his back, and gripping his hips with her thighs.

He took the ride much slower than he had planned to as not to frighten her. As they neared the beach, she began to relax loosening her grip on him. At last he could breathe properly and did not feel like she was about to squeeze him in half.

As they moved along the road running parallel to the ocean, he could feel her head, the hard roundness of the helmet, pressing between his shoulder blades. He had a very specific and special place he wanted to take her to on the beach. It would take a little maneuvering to get there, but it would be worth it.

When the motorcycle transitioned from the pavement to dirt road, her arms wound around him and squeezed with the strength of a boa constrictor. Bakugo had not accounted for having a reluctant rider on this bumpy path. Hopefully she would not kill him before they arrived.

At last he reached the low grassy bluff that bordered the water. A shell covered footpath between the rocks led down to a cove. For a few hours, they would be hidden and set apart from the rest of the world.

Leaving the helmets and his jacket on the bike, he took the basket in one hand and her hand in the other to lead her to their own small private beach for two.

"Oh, Katsuki," she gasped as they stepped out onto the sand. "This is amazing."

"I was hoping you would like it," he said, putting the basket down on a big rock.

"I love it," she gushed, running to the edge of the water.

Takara took off her sandals and rolled up her jeans before running to the water. She giggled like a child as the water rushed at her feet, the white foam bubbling over her toes.

Bakugo picked up her shoes and took them a safe distance away so a stray wave would not come up and steal them away. He removed his boots and socks, then rolled up his jeans as well to join her at the edge of the water.

"So what was the deal with that little vision of yours earlier?" Bakugo questioned her.

"What do you mean? You didn't like it?" she rejoined, her voice rising in pitch as if she was disappointed he did not like it.

"No, it's not that I didn't like it. It's just that..." He hesitated, scratching the back of his head self-consciously. "Do you really see me as a vicious beast who only wants to hurt you?"

"What?! No!" she exclaimed, turning toward him. She took his hand in hers, squeezing gently. "You're not a vicious beast...despite your grumpy tone and harsh words."

Takara placed her hand on his cheek, pulling his head toward her so he would have to look at her. A small, apologetic smile graced her lips. Her eyes held his captive with a tender, loving expression.

"I see you as wild and untamed. You're not ashamed to just be you no matter how rude and annoying you are sometimes," she stated with unexpected bluntness. "You're handsome and sexy and I find it hard to take my eyes off of you. You make me feel like I could hurt myself by falling in love with you because you don't need anybody."

"You're right," he agreed, turning his body toward her to face her straight on. His fingertips rested on her waist, pulling at her shirt slightly to draw her forward, closer to him. "I don't _need _you."

Her eyes lowered from his to the sand and her hand let go of his. His hand immediately went to her face, lifting her chin so he could see her eyes again. Their amber color glistened under a layer of tears.

"It's not good to be needy. If you need someone, that person can begin to feel smothered, crushed by the overwhelming emotions of the person who can't live without them. I _want _you," he clarified, his fingers clutching her shirt and pulling her forward. "I want you to be near me. I want you to be a part of my life. I want..."

His words drifted off as her eyes closed, her chin tilting upward to offer her lips for a kiss.

Takara held her breath in anticipation of his kiss. His fingers glided from her under chin over to her cheek. Edging closer to his body, the static like charge of his proximity brought goosebumps to the surface of her skin.

"Mi cara," Katsuki whispered, his breath brushing across her lips.

The same words from him carried a much different connotation. The romantic meaning of being his dear one conjured a divergent intimacy that warmed her body from the inside out.

His lips ghosted across hers, a barely perceptible contact that left behind a pins and needles sensation of excitement. Her lungs craved oxygen, forcing her to inhale a shuddering breath.

Takara kept her eyes closed as his fingertip traced the outer curve of her ear. His fingers tweaked the lobe before drifting down her neck.

Bakugo gave her another kiss square on the lips. Brief, innocent, closed mouth yet with an open heart. Her knees weakened, and she leaned into him, her palms pressing against his chest. His heart quivered under her hand. Or was that her trembling? She could not be sure.

She sighed when he hugged her, one arm enclosing her shoulders and the other hooking around her waist to hold her securely. The pectoral muscle of his chest felt taut and pliant under her cheek. His skin was warm under his shirt. He acted rock hard and cold, even looked the part. However, when alone with her, he was soft and warm and so very sweet.

"You absolutely terrify me," Takara said in raspy voice, her throat constricted with emotion.

"Why is that?" Katsuki asked, his hands stroking up and down her back.

"You're a sheep in wolf's clothing. You huff and puff and then...and then..."

"And then what?" He pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"And then you're so damn kind and soft hearted...loving. Damn," she sighed when he dropped a kiss nearer to her mouth. "You're not what you seem to be at all." She nuzzled her nose into his chest affectionately. "I can't trust my heart with a man like you."

"It's too late," he whispered in her ear, kissing just below her earlobe. "I've already taken your heart. You told me so."

Takara leaned her head back so she could see his face. His narrow eyes were almost completely closed as he gazed down at her. His thumbs rubbed across her cheeks as he continued staring at her.

Her belly clenched, the muscles tightening with an almost sickening force as his lips lowered to hers. This time he kissed her hungrily. His lips pressed against hers forcefully before lifting only to reclaim her mouth possessively seconds later.

Her fingers grabbed fistfuls of his shirt at his waist, tugging and hanging on for dear life as he decimated her emotions by ravaging her mouth. The kiss left her breathless, panting for air. Her breasts flattened against his chest as they both inhaled deeply to pull air into their starved lungs.

"I guess you're a wolf after all," she gasped.

Katsuki bent to kiss her throat, gently and enticingly nipping at her sensitive skin. An electrical shock of arousal rushed down her spine shooting off sparks throughout her entire body that left her with a pins and needles feeling all over.

"Oh, what sharp teeth you have, Mr. Wolf," she giggled seductively.

"All the better to eat you with, my dear," he rejoined, nibbling at her neck.

"My god," she murmured.

"No need to be so formal. Your majesty will do nicely," he quipped, straightening up to smile down at her.

Takara threw back her head and laughed heartily. A loud belly laugh full of mirth and so much sincerity it brought a begrudging smile to his lips.

"You irritate me so much," he told her, cradling the back of her head in his large hand.

"Why?" she asked, sobering in an instant.

"Because when I'm around you I find myself wanting to smile all the time. It's annoying as hell and hurts my face," he grumbled.

"Ooooh," she cooed, massaging his cheeks with her fingers. "I don't mean to make you get face cramps."

"Don't be stupid," he muttered irritably, one side of his mouth inadvertently raising back into a half-smile. He pushed away her hands. "I'm hungry. Let's eat."

Takara grunted. She absolutely hated how quickly he shifted emotional gears. She found it difficult to keep up with his mood swings. Closing her eyes, she inhaled and exhaled a cleansing breath to hang on to her patience and rein in her own runaway emotions.

Katsuki Bakugo is what he is no matter how infuriating he may be. For some reason, she adores him. Despite the swiftly changing emotional weather of this special force of nature, she found herself falling deeper in love with him.

Takara glimpsed at the man spreading the blanket on the loose dry sand surrounding by a semi-circle of tall, jagged black rocks. Her eyes followed every movement as he set out the sandwiches, the strawberries, the cheese, and the bottle red wine and two glasses for their picnic.

And this is why she could not stop herself from falling so deeply in love with him. In spite of the sharp words and grouchy behavior, he loved her and showed it in ways she could not ignore.


	6. The Lamb Part 1

Author's note: Hi everyone! This chapter is actually divided into two separate parts. I don't like writing excessively long chapters because they are a pain to edit, but they're also a little difficult to read. I hope to publish the second part in a day or two. For now, please enjoy this update. Thank you for reading. I appreciate all of the follows, favorites, and reviews!

* * *

Takara heard the beep of the alarm turning off then the click of the lock releasing. Her heart sped up in anticipation. She would finally see him.

"Takara!" Izuku called. "Where are you?"

"I'm in the bedroom!" she answered, closing her book and laying it aside on the table next to the chaise lounge.

Although everything within her wanted her to jump up, to run to him, and fling herself into his arms, she stayed put. She had been reading to pass the time until he arrived home from work. She could not remember a single word she had supposedly read.

Izuku entered the room in his typical casual summer outfit of knee length khaki cargo shorts, a red t-shirt, and his green hoodie over that with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His hair still mussed and wet from his shower made her want to comb through it with her fingers. Not so much to straighten it, she adored his messy hair, but just to touch him and get her hands into that glorious mane.

"Hi," she greeted him in a breathy gush of air.

"Hi," he returned, sitting down in front of her on the seat of the lounger when she pulled her feet up to sit in a cross legged position. "What are you doing awake? It's after midnight."

"Waiting for you," she replied despite her reason being self-evident.

Takara leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders to embrace him an a somewhat awkward sideways hug.

"I've missed you," she said.

"It's only been two days," he chuckled, turning his chest toward her and squeezing her tightly.

So tightly her breasts flattened against his chest. However, she was wearing his red hoodie and the multiple layers of fabric between them kept the embrace from being sexually stimulating, only comforting. Reluctantly letting him go, she sat back in the lounger.

"I guess I got spoiled seeing you every day," she admitted, a sweet pink blush tinting her cheeks.

"I've missed you too," he confessed, his freckled cheeks flooding with color.

A little thrill rushed through her body making her entire body feel electrified. He made her feel giddy and childish. Has she never truly been in love before? She could not recall anyone making her feel like this ever before in her life.

"So that's where that went. I was looking for that," he said.

"Huh?"

Izuku tugged on one of the untied strings hanging down from the hood. "I was looking for this."

"Sorry. I stole it last night. I got cold while Katsuki and I were watching a movie. I don't know how you two don't freeze to death. You keep it like a freezer in there," she said, shivering and pulling the hood over her head as if thinking about it made her cold.

"Feels like you've turned your ac down too," he remarked, pushing the hood back from her head. His large, warm hand pressed against the back of her neck, drawing her forward and into his arms for another embrace. "Being cold is good for snuggling right?"

"Right," she agreed happily, pressing her cheek against his neck.

Takara could feel his pulse thrumming against her skin. His heart beat fast, irregularly.

"Are you okay?" she asked, trying to lean back but he held her firmly to him.

"I'm fine," he assured her, squeezing her a little tighter.

Her ribs ached a bit from his powerful embrace. Breathing became a little difficult but nothing to complain about. His heart beat so strongly she would swear it was vibrating her body.

"Did something happen at work? Is that why you're getting home so late?" she asked, her fingers gripping his brawny shoulders to strengthen her hold on him. He began to shake as if he might fall apart.

"I don't want to talk about it. I just want to be here with you. Like this. I just..." His voice broke with a sob.

"De-... Izuku," she corrected herself, deciding not to use his hero name right now.

Somehow she had the feeling that was the last thing he wanted to hear. He needed to be just Izuku Midoriya, not a hero, at the moment.

Her hand moved to the back to his head. His silky hair shaved down to his skin tickled her palm as she slid it up to the top of his head. Her fingers buried themselves in the tousled mess on top, gently pushing through as not to pull the tangles while trying to soothe him as he cried in her arms.

Takara would hate to admit his refusal to talk about what bothered him to this extreme degree actually relieved her. She already shared his pain not knowing. To see him this upset not only broke her heart but also struck a chord of fear deep inside of her. Whatever happened had to be bad, _real bad_, to warrant this reaction from him.

Tears stung her eyes as she listened to him sniffling, his body shaking in her arms. Even heroes had a breaking point. People, including her, had a tendency to forget heroes were still only human despite their fantastic abilities and superhuman deeds. Not one, not that she knew of, possessed the quirk of having no feelings at all. Some of the villains though very well might.

"I'm sorry," he apologized in a whisper.

"Don't," she said firmly, hugging him so fiercely her arms ached. "Don't you ever apologize for having feelings. For being human."

"Can I - " His breathing hitched, the sudden inhale preventing him from talking.

Takara unwound her arms from him so she could sit back and see his teary, reddened face through her own tear filled eyes. She smiled in spite of the overwhelming sadness she attempted to help him bear. Cupping his cheek, her eyes met his. Their green color appeared more brilliant than ever through the prism of his tears, almost glowing.

"Can I stay with you tonight? I need - " He inhaled sharply. His eyes closed shutting off their luminescent new shade of emerald.

"I'm here for you. I always will be. As long as you'll have me," she added quickly which made his eyes open wide. "I love you."

"What?" He did not blink or pull away. Just stared wide eyed at her, his hands resting on her waist.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, stunned by her own unexpected confession.

She slapped her hands over her gaping mouth as he continued to gaze at her shocked and speechless - the metaphorical deer in the headlights.

"Maybe I shouldn't have said that so soon. But... " She held his face between both of her hands.

Her entire body trembled. Her heart ached in her chest with overflowing emotion, as she fitted her mouth to his for a chaste but heartfelt kiss. Blinking back the tears that she could barely keep at bay, her eyes met his.

"But I do. I love you," she said. Her eyes drifted down from his to stare at the zipper of his jacket when he did not say anything. "You don't have to say it back. I'll understand if you don't feel the same. Izuku, I'm - "

"Stop," he said quietly, his voice gentle.

His forefinger touched under her chin, coaxing her to turn her head back up so he could look into her eyes again.

"I feel the same way." A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. "By the way, how was the date with Kacchan the other night? I haven't had a chance to ask."

"You knew about that?" she asked, flabbergasted that he and Katsuki had actually discussed the matter.

"Of course I knew. I helped plan it, although Kacchan did most of the work. I mostly told him where you would be and how to find you. So how was it?"

"You're okay with..." She paused, making a circular motion with her palm horizontally in the air. "All of this? The three of us."

"Well, we've never actually talked about it, but I think we all know we're in this relationship together...all three of us. How was the date?" he inquired again as if their situation was not unique.

"It was great. Very romantic. The filling he made for the sandwiches was amazing. It was really good. Did you help him prepare the food?"

"Nope. That was all him. He's actually a really good cook. The trick is motivating him to get into the kitchen to do it."

Takara giggled which was interrupted by a yawn.

"We should get to bed," Izuku said, standing up from the chaise. "You have rehearsal tomorrow."

"It doesn't start until noon," she yawned again as he took her by the hands and pulled her to her feet. "It will be a quick run through of the performance...a dress rehearsal for theater... so it's no big deal."

Izuku led her to the bed, pulling back the covers. Takara climbed in between the sheets, scooting over to the far side to make room for him.

"What are you doing?" he asked. He had been prepared to tuck her in and sleep on top of the covers like before.

"You said you wanted to stay. So come on," she said, patting the black sheet. "I don't bite."

"What if I do?" he returned, his eyebrow jumping playfully which gave him a mischievous little boy expression.

"Oh, you naughty boy!" she gasped, feigning indignation surprised by his bold flirtation.

Both of them laughed lightly as he unzipped his hoodie and tossed it behind him onto the lounger where they had been sitting. He left his t-shirt and shorts on to get into the bed next to her. She was still covered up in her hoodie, t-shirt, and sleep shorts.

Just right for snuggling indeed. Izuku slid over next to her, taking her into his arms to hold her. Takara tucked her head under his chin, grasping his t-shirt with both hands. Nothing would go on here tonight but sleeping.

She wanted to keep him close for as long as possible. His touch, his heartbeat, soothed her. Apparently he felt the same way as he kept his arms securely, protectively, around her shoulders and waist throughout the night. Neither one of them moved nor relinquished their hold on the other.

Some time the next morning, they awakened but stayed silent and still, not wanting to move. Since the blinds and the blackout curtains were closed to keep out the sunlight, they had no way of estimating the time. Takara knew it had to be before ten because the alarm she had set on her phone had not yet sounded.

"This is nice," Izuku whispered, his vocal chords vibrating against the top of her head.

"It is. I wish we could stay like this forever," she murmured, her fingers clenching and unclenching around the soft folds of fabric held between them.

Three beeps followed by the click of the front door lock sliding back warned them they had company.

"Rise and shine! I'm comin' in!" Katsuki yelled to warn them of his impending arrival. "Ya better have clothes on dammit!"

"Ugh," Takara groaned, peeling herself away from Izuku.

"Morning!" he chirped as Katsuki entered the room.

_Oh, dear god, he's a morning person, _she moaned inwardly, pulling the covers over head.

The scrape of metal against metal told her the curtains were being drawn open to let the sunshine in. Her fingers curled into the comforter over her head to hold it securely in preparation for what she knew would be coming next. Someone tugged at the covers but she held fast not yet ready to face the day.

"Wakey, wakey, sleeping beauty," Katsuki growled, snatching the blanket right out of her grip.

Takara hissed like a vampire and curled into a ball, slamming her pillow over her head.

"Hey, I brought you something," Katsuki said, grabbing the pillow and tossing it aside impatiently. It hit the wall with a muted thump and fell to the floor.

"Pillow!" she whined like a child, sitting up and making grabby hands.

"Shut up!" he shouted.

"Kacchan, give her a break. We were up late last night," Izuku said.

"Sit up, big baby," the perpetually irritable blonde muttered, sliding behind her to act as her pillow. He shoved a paper carry out cup in front of her nose. "I brought you something."

Takara sniffed. Coffee. And not just any coffee. She smelled the cloyingly sweet aroma of white chocolate. Her favorite!

"Ooooh, white chocolate mocha," she cooed, seizing the cup with both hands. "How did you know?"

"He's your biggest fan," Izuku said, sounding very amused. "He's read every article, every little snippet of information posted on social media anywhere about you."

"You kinda sound like a creeper, Bakugo," Takara teased him, loudly sipping at the searing hot liquid that felt as if it would burn a hole through the plastic lid and her tongue.

"Shut up," he grumbled, enclosing her waist with his arms.

Takara settled back against his broad chest to enjoy her coffee while Izuku sat next to them propped against his pillow to drink his tea or coffee or whatever Katsuki brought him.

"I left the croissants in the kitchen," he informed them.

"Chocolate?" she ventured a hopeful guess.

"Do you like another kind for breakfast?"

"Yum."

Izuku chuckled in amusement at their exchange. He had never known of Katsuki to be so accommodating to anyone - ever.

"You'll have to get up to eat breakfast," Katsuki grumbled. "I've been waiting for hours for you two lazy asses to wake up."

"Not everybody goes to bed at eight o' clock. Now who's the baby?" Takara teased him, receiving a light pinch on the side. "Ouch! Meanie."

"You wouldn't have me any other way," His fingers massaged the place on her hip where he had pinched her. That was Katsuki in two movements; could be mean as hell and cause pain but then could be gentle and sweet the next.

"I'm going out with two friends for dinner. Would you like to come? I'd like for them to meet you," Izuku said.

"Definitely. What about Katsuki?" she asked, feeling his body stiffen against her back.

"I'm good," he assured her. "We're not attached at the hip, you know. Besides, I already have plans with Kirishima and Kaminari. They're both coming Saturday night."

"By the way, I bought another table and invited more friends. I hope you don't mind," Izuku interjected.

"Why would I mind? The more the merrier. All the proceeds go to the children's hospital. I'm thrilled. Although I wish you had told me. I could have gotten them. I don't mind."

"Nah, it's fine. You already paid for one table."

Takara's stomach clenched so violently nausea swamped her. So many of their friends would be there. She wanted to make a good impression. Her performance had to be perfect. Absolutely perfect.

"Are you nervous? About Saturday night?" Katsuki asked her, stroking her arm as if to comfort her.

"I'm always nervous before a performance," she murmured, sipping her super sweet and delicious coffee drink.

"Don't worry. You'll be great like always," Izuku said, leaning over to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"I have to admit I'm a bit disappointed in you two," Katsuki interjected, his arms winding around her body to squeeze her like a python as if Izuku planned to snatch her out of his embrace. "You spent the whole night, just the two of you in bed together, and I find you both fully clothed this morning."

"Kacchan," Izuku sighed as if disappointed, his face turning a shade of red to match his cherry red t-shirt.

Takara exhaled and rolled her eyes. Katsuki just would not be himself if he did not say or do something to shock and offend, to absolutely murder a poignant moment. Somehow this desire to sabotage heartwarming moments became part of his abrasive charm.

"Come on, get up," he encouraged her rather roughly, pushing her out of the bed.

"All right, all right!" she exclaimed, shaking out his grip as he tried to push her toward the door. "Geez, I can walk."

"Move it, lady. How about a morning swim after breakfast?" he suggested, following her to the kitchen.

She glanced at the clock on the stove. 7:12. God it's early! There was plenty of time for a swim.

"I can do a few laps. Then I have to go to rehearsal."

"I can drive on you," Katsuki offered, opening the box on the counter and grabbing one of the croissants. Instead of eating it, he handed the pastry to her.

"On your motorcycle? No thanks," she quickly responded, taking a big bite of the flaky, buttery pastry. No burst of bittersweet chocolate. "Are you sure there's chocolate in this?"

"No, not on my motorcycle. Where would you put your cello, dummy? I can drive your car then pick you up."

"Why would you do that?"

"I need to borrow it."

"Why?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out," he snapped. When she glared hotly at him, he added, "It's a surprise."

"All you had to do was ask, idiot," she muttered, taking another huge chomp of the croissant. The silky sweet chocolate with a slightly bitter edge oozed over her tongue. "Mmmm, chocolate."

"You're a pig," Katsuki muttered, his nose wrinkling and his upper lip peeling back as if appalled by her voracious appetite.

"You're an asshole," she retorted with zero hesitation, reaching for another croissant.

Izuku stayed silent drinking his tea and eating his croissant. He wanted no part of their verbal battle. Insults and cross words was Kacchan's favorite way of communicating, and he had found someone who could speak his language. Why would he interrupt their lively banter?

"Sweetheart," she said, looking at Izuku.

"Hmmm?" he hummed in inquiry, gazing at her over the top of his cup.

"Want to join us for a swim?"

"I'm afraid I can't. I have to get to the office to finish my paperwork. There's also a few other things I need to take care of," he murmured, staring down at his hands.

"Are you going to be all right? I can meet you after rehearsal. I'll be close by and - "

He glanced at Katsuki then at her. "No. I'll be fine. I'm not sure how long this will take."

"How long what will take?" she asked. The worry blossoming in her chest constricting her lungs made her breaths ragged.

"It will be okay," Katsuki said, laying his hand over hers resting on the counter-top.

He picked up her hand to hold it. When his eyes met hers, they were sad, gentle, and pleading as if begging her to understand and stop asking questions. It was if he was warning her not to push the matter, that she did not want to be involved. But how could she not be involved?

"It's just hero stuff we have to deal with some times. Sometimes things happen beyond our control. Bad things," he explained in the vaguest terms possible. He squeezed her hand. "Everything will be okay. Deku will be okay. Let it go. Please."

"All right," she gulped, truly disturbed by Katsuki's reaction.

"Go get your swim suit on. You got calories to burn," he reminded her, dropping her hand.

"Asshole," she muttered, hopping off the bar stool to stand beside Izuku.

Takara put her arms around him him, kissing his cheek. Without saying another word, she went to the bedroom. As she changed, she could hear them talking but the words were muffled and indecipherable through the walls.

After putting on her red bow bikini, she wrapped a towel around herself and opened the door to her room. The voices in the kitchen instantly went silent.

Izuku met her at the end of the hall where the open layout of the foyer, kitchen and living room began. He put his arms around her, trapping her in bear hug since she was holding her towel in place with one hand.

Her one free arm hooked around his waist in a feeble attempt to return the crushing embrace. She would swear he was trying to pull enough consoling reassurance from her body to last him through the day.

"I'll see you tonight at seven thirty," he said before kissing her on the cheek.

"I'll be ready," she promised. "I'm looking forward to meeting your friends."

"Good." He gave her a swift peck on the lips and turned to go.

"See ya, nerd," Katsuki called after Izuku but it was said with affection. He turned to her and asked, "Ready?"

Takara had not even noticed earlier in her half asleep state that he was wearing his black swim trunks with the flames on them in addition to his black tank top. Apparently he had been prepared to take a swim with or without her. If she was not fully awake now she would lay back down in bed.

"What does it look like?" she asked, opening the towel to show him her swimsuit.

His gleaming scarlet eyes looked her over from head to toe approvingly. A leering grin perked up one side of his mouth when she wrapped the towel back around her before his eyes could complete another trip over her body.

"Damn. I'd say you look fucking fantastic. Speaking of fucking - "

"No!" she yelled, cutting him off before he could complete that sentence. She raised a finger, wagging it at him like one does a misbehaving puppy. "No, no! Let's not."

"I was just going to say I'm a little disappointed you two didn't last night," he said, ushering her to the door.

"Really?" She whirled around to stare at him, perplexed.

"Yeah. I thought for sure you would." He typed in the code to lock the door.

"Should I be offended?" She did not bother to say she was not that type of girl. She was not the type of girl to find herself at the pinnacle of a love triangle either, but here she is. "Do you think so little of me?"

"No. That's not it at all. We're all adults here."

"Wouldn't you have been jealous?"

"Hell yeah I would have," he admitted, jogging up the set of stairs ahead of her. "But it's going to happen at some point."

"Yeah. But I'm still a little confused," she said, clutching her towel tighter. "I don't know what we're doing here. I don't know how this kind of relationship is supposed to work."

"It's new territory for all of us. Besides, we've all admitted how we feel about each other."

"Yeah, but - "

" We'll figure it out as we go."

"So when we do decide to..." Takara hesitated, feeling the discomforting warmth of humiliation spreading over her face and down her neck. Grown up indeed. She could not bring herself to say the phrases make love or have sex.

"We'll figure it out as we go," he repeated, rushing ahead. "Hurry up, fat ass. You're slow."

"Asshole," she muttered under her breath.

"I heard that," he yelled down to her from the flight above.

"I don't care," she pouted. "Besides, I'm curvaceous. Not fat."

"You're not wrong. I like your curves."

"Hmph," she snorted, still pouting.

Katsuki pushed open the glass door leading onto the roof and ran straight to the pool diving in without slowing down. His long muscular body cut through the water like a torpedo. Halfway across the pool the water slowed his momentum forcing him to perform the breaststroke and paddle his feet to continue moving through the water.

Takara prissily folded her towel and placed it one one of the wooden slatted lounge chairs. She waited for him to surface at the opposite end of the pool. Swinging one arm in a circle, then the other, going through the motions of warming up her muscles, she took her time to perform the motion slowly and with great flair.

"Oh, come on! Jump in!" he shouted impatiently.

Diving in, the cold water shocked her sun warmed body. It almost hurt at first then felt good against her steadily heating muscles as they worked to propel her through the freezing liquid. Opening her eyes and staying under the surface, she headed straight for Katsuki. Stopping inches in front of him, she stood up in the three foot depth, swinging her head to smack him in the face with her wet hair.

His strong arms went around her, one around her shoulders and the other under her knees. Scooping her out of the water, he tossed her across the pool where she sank like a rock.

Staying under the water, swimming back to him, Takara seized him by the ankles and jerked with all of her might. The buoyancy imparted to his heavy, brawny body by the water enabled her to pull his legs right out from under him and plunge him under the surface with her.

They were both looking at each other under the water, bubbles swirling around them. It was as if both were waiting for the other to make the first move. Rather than foolishly tussling under the water, they stood up so they could breathe.

Strong hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her forward. Barely able to suck in a breath, his mouth covered hers for a kiss. Not wanting to break the kiss, but desperate for air, she shoved him away from her. As she panted for air, her mouth hanging open, she stared at him as he did the same thing.

"You're crazy," she accused him.

"So are you," he retorted. "You're my kind of crazy. That's why I like you."

"Gee, thanks." She could not stop herself from smiling but splashed water in his face to hide it.

His hair was plastered flat to his head only for a moment before he ran his fingers through it, shaking his head to throw off the excess water. Amazingly, the blond spikes instantly stood straight back up as if they had never been flattened at all.

"Ready to swim those laps?" he asked, wiping the water out of his eyes.

"Yeah. Let's go." She turned and slammed her cupped hand down into the water to give herself a head start. "Race ya! Loser cooks dinner on Sunday!"

"Hey! You little sh-"

Takara did not hear the rest. She was too busy slicing through the water with her hands and madly kicking her feet. She wanted to win this to taste an entire meal cooked by Chef Katsuki.

After swimming laps until her muscles began to tighten and threaten to cramp she slid to a stop, her flattened palm bumping into the cement edge of the shallow end. Once again, panting like a dog, she heard Katsuki splashing behind her before he coasted in to stand up beside her.

"Did I win?" she panted.

"Yeah, you won," he growled, grudgingly admitting defeat.

"Woohoo!" she shrieked, shaking her fists in the air triumphantly.

"Since I'm cooking, I get to choose the meal."

"Okay."

Katsuki glanced at his watch. "You're going to be late."

"What time is it?"

"Eleven."

"Oh, shit!" Takara exclaimed, launching into full panic mode.

"I guess this means I can't take a shower with you," he hollered after her as she grabbed her towel while sprinting toward the door.

"Not today. I want to take my time to enjoy that. You are driving me to the conservatory though," she reminded him, rushing away.

Katsuki watched her run down the hallway through glass wall surrounding the pool. He smiled.

"Not today, huh?" he chuckled to himself as he hauled his body out of the pool.

After her shower and hastily dressing in a long flowery skirt and pink tank top, Takara went next door. With make up bag and sandals in one hand, her cello handle in the other, she raised her bare foot to poke the code into the numeric pad with her big toe. Katsuki would have been impressed with her agility and physical prowess.

She let herself into their apartment, placing her cello and shoes by the door before rushing to the counter to put down her make up bag before she dropped it on the floor and broke everything. She could hear the shower running.

"Katsuki!" she bellowed. "I need to go! I'm gonna be late!"

"Yeah, yeah," he shot back, turning off the water.

Takara sat down at the counter to begin applying her make up. She still had the towel wrapped around her hair to soak up excess water.

"What are you worrying about that crap for? You're beautiful without it," Katsuki complimented her, appearing behind her in her make up mirror.

"Thanks. You're sweet," she returned but continued applying the concealer to hide the dark circles under her eyes. "But I need a little help today."

Katsuki went to the refrigerator and opened it, rattling glass containers and crinkling plastic ones. She stared in disbelief at his lower half wrapped in a towel poking out of the fridge.

"What are you doing?"

"You need to eat and drink something. Here," he said, putting a bottle of blue sports drink and a sandwich on the counter in front of her. "I made these sandwiches for my lunch. I'll share."

"Oh, you really are sweet," she returned with gratitude, grabbing half of the sandwich that had been cut into two triangles. Roast beef and provolone cheese with lots of creamy horseradish mayo. No lettuce, no tomatoes, no nonsense. "Ugh...my god that's good."

"Who says the only way to a man heart is through his stomach. It seems to work pretty good on you too," he teased, cramming half of his sandwich in his mouth.

"Swimming stirs up an appetite. Everyone knows that," she said, taking another bite. "I'm looking forward to Sunday."

"I bet."

"Any idea what you're cooking?"

"No. You'll find out then. Be patient."

"Hah! You telling someone to be patient. That's funny," she remarked sarcastically with a full mouth. After chewing and swallowing she said, "But seriously, I need to go. I can't be late."

"I'm sure Maestro won't mind."

"He won't...but everyone else will. They already think I'm the teacher's pet, so to speak, anyway."

"They're just jealous," he assured her, walking back around the counter to stand beside her.

"Maybe so. But they don't mind making my life hell when they can."

Katsuki kissed her forehead. "I'll get you there on time."

Takara leaned back on the bar stool watching him walk away down the hall to his room. He had to know she was watching him as he stripped off the towel from around his waist. His bare behind was tight and round and lily white in comparison to his tanned legs and back.

"Oh, my," she giggled, straightening up before she fell off the bar stool.

Looking back in her mirror, her red face prompted her to hurry up and apply her make up to hide her embarrassment. She had removed the towel from her hair which hung down her back in long damp spirals. By the time he returned, fully dressed and ready to go, she had finished gathering her wits and painting her face.

"Let's go, Mi Cara," he said, gently pulling on her arm to urge her to the door.

A different kind of warmth covered from head to toe. It pleased her to hear him call her that. My dear one. To be called his dear one warmed her straight through to her soul.

Katsuki carried her cello downstairs for her and loaded it into the back of her little black SUV. He stayed quiet on the drive to the conservatory, concentrating on the road and vehicles around him to get her there quickly but safely.

"You can just drop me off," she said as he pulled up to the curb and shut off the vehicle. "Pop the back, and I'll grab my cello."

"No. I'll walk you in," he insisted, pressing the release button to open that back before getting out to walk around.

Takara grinned like an idiot after turning her back to him to get out so he would not see. His thoughtfulness and kindness made her adore him. At times, he made it so easy to fall for him. At others, he seemed to want to push her away. Out of self-defense or simply a bad habit, she had no idea but she had made her mind up to love him - all of him - no matter what.

"Hey! You can't park here!" a police officer yelled at him when they were almost to the door.

"Gimme just a minute!" Katsuki bellowed angrily.

"Kacchan," she said, surprising him by using the nickname Izuku used for him. Raising up on her tiptoes, she pressed a kiss to his lips. "Go. I can take it from here. Thank you. For everything."

"You don't have to be so damn grateful all the time. It's annoying," he grumbled, blushing every so lightly.

That blush made him look so damn cute. Takara smiled at him, giving him another peck on the lips. "I love you, you idiot. How's that?"

Before he could respond, she grabbed her cello and took off. She felt elated, happy, as if she were walking on air. They didn't know what they were doing, but they seemed to be doing something right in this unusual relationship.


	7. The Lamb Part 2

Author's Note: Here's part 2 as promised. I didn't want to hang on to it too much longer since it's a continuation of the not only the last chapter but the same day. Hope you like it! Thank you for reading!

* * *

Takara stood on the curb at the same place where Katsuki had dropped her off earlier that day. The orchestra had finished rehearsal early, around four thirty. rather than the five o'clock she had told him. Instead of calling him or texting him to come early, she took the extra time to rehearse alone, to think and relax, before packing up and coming outside.

"Have you been waiting long?" Katsuki asked her after jumping out of the driver's seat to retrieve her cello.

"No. Not long," she replied, standing beside the passenger's door for him to open it.

"You really are a princess, aren't you?"he scoffed, only slightly irritated.

He opened the door but stood in her way, blocking her entry into the vehicle.

"What is it?' she asked, looking him the eye. He wasn't angry so what could be wrong?

"About what you said earlier..." His eyes lowered from hers to gaze at his feet. He scrubbed the toe of his sneaker across a crack in the sidewalk.

Even though she had a good idea of exactly which statement he was referring to, she cagily returned, "I said a lot of things earlier. To which are you - "

"You know damn good and well to which I'm referring!" he shouted loud enough to make her jump and take a step back from him. He reached out, taking her hand in his, "I'm sorry. I'm just...I suck at these kinds of things. Feelings and all that crap."

"That's why I said you don't have to say anything in return. Don't say it until you're ready. Until you really mean it," she said, wishing she had an escape route. Not only was he standing in front of her, he held onto her wrist securely keeping her from going backward any further.

"But I do. I do want to say it. I just...can't."

"That's okay. Actions speak louder than words. Barely louder in your case since you're always yelling but still..." Her words drifted away when he not only smiled but issued a small chuckle.

To see him smile was like seeing a rainbow after the rain. Her heart felt light and airy, ready to float right out of her chest and go straight to cloud nine.

Katsuki sidled to the right to get out of the way but did not let go of her hand as he assisted her with getting into the car. After she sat down, he leaned in and gave her a kiss on the lips.

"I do like you, Mi Cara," he said, his lips hovering in front of hers.

"A lot?" she asked with a goofy simper.

"A lotta lot," he confirmed before kissing her again but partly on the teeth because her stupid grin was so big. "We gotta get you home. You have a date to get ready for."

Takara waited for him to load her cello. As soon as his behind touched the seat she asked him the question that had been burning in her mind since he mentioned it.

"What's my surprise?" she asked, craning her neck to look in the back seat.

"_Your_ surprise? I never said the surprise is for you. What makes you think it's for you?" he inquired in return. The lilt in his voice gave it away that it actually is for her.

"Where is it?"

"So impatient. You're going to have to wait. You're not getting it today. Or tomorrow."

"Sunday?"

"You're already getting a surprise lunch Sunday. Isn't that enough? So greedy. You'll get your surprise when the time is right."

"Fine, fine," Takara muttered, staring out of the side window to avoid even so much as an accidental glance in his direction.

"Seriously? Are you pouting?" Katsuki demanded irritably.

"Do you have any idea what I should be prepared for at dinner tonight?" she questioned him to change the subject.

"Well, if it's who I think it is, be prepared for junk food at an amusement park."

"I was expecting some fancy restaurant. Suit and tie, little black dress. I can deal with fast food and roller coasters. Sounds fun."

"Takara? Are you ready?" Izuku called down the hallway. "We're meeting them there."

"I need a wardrobe check. Am I dressed appropriately?" she asked, coming out of her room.

Takara walked into the living room, doing a little spin. She chose dark blue skinny jeans, a white t-shirt, her low top black converse sneakers with no socks, and Izuku's red hoodie.

"Perfect," he replied, rising from the couch. "Kacchan must of warned you where we would most likely be going."

"Yep," she confirmed, swinging her tiny purse over her head and positioning the extra long strap across her chest between her breasts. "Where is Katsuki? I thought he'd see us off."

"It's seven thirty. Where do you think?"

"Can I give him a good night kiss?"

"Sure."

Izuku followed her out of her door and through their door. They could hear the water running in the bathroom. The door was open so she boldly walked down the hall and stood there while he brushed his teeth to get ready for bed.

"You know," Katsuki began, wiping his mouth with a towel after rinsing and spitting, "I'm beginning the think we all might be a little too comfortable with each other."

"You can never be too comfortable with someone," she said, tilting her head back to look up at him when he stood toe to toe with her.

"Maybe you're right," he agreed, pressing his forefinger against her chest between her breasts to push her backwards into the hall. "Why are you here? You two should be on your way to a fun filled evening of swirling and hurling."

"I can hardly wait when you put it that way," she laughed, following him into his room.

His bedroom was immaculate. Minimalist, neat and clean, a place for everything and everything in its place. It almost looked like a dorm room with the sparse furnishings of a twin sized platform bed, a chest of drawers, a desk, and a black desk chair. A shelf with a few random knick knacks hung above the head of his bed.

"You sure didn't stay out long with Kirishima and Kaminari." She stood in the middle of the room turning in a circle.

"We shot a few games of pool. Had a few beers. A few laughs." Katsuki plopped down on the overstuffed black down comforter on his bed.

"You actually laughed?"

He grunted in reaction to her snarky comment but said nothing. "Did you come to tuck me in?"

"Will a good night kiss do?"

Katsuki shrugged. "I don't care."

Takara put her hands behind her back as she walked toward the bed. He sat there, shirtless, wearing only a pair of orange basketball shorts. The fingers of her left hand grasped her right wrist to keep her from touching his tanned skin that looked so warm and soft. How she would love to caress those extremely well-built pecs or trace the flawless and hard lined six pack on his abdomen.

She leaned down, puckering her lips to place a kiss on his forehead.

"That's it?" he asked when she straightened up.

"Now who's being greedy?"

She lowered lips, pressing them squarely to his. She allowed them to linger, keeping the pressure light and relishing the exhilirating sensation of the intimate and affectionate contact.

"Goodnight, Bakugo Katsuki," she whispered, kissing the tip of his nose before standing tall.

"Have fun," he said, tucking himself in.

Takara flipped off the light on her way out of the room. Izuku patiently waited for her by the door. He smiled as she took him by the hand.

"Shall we go?" she suggested.

"Uh huh," he agreed.

"So where are we going?"

"The Boardwalk. It's like a miniature amusement park by the ocean."

After they got in her car, Izuku directed her on how to get there. They arrived at exactly eight o' clock but still had a long walk despite the parking lot being half empty. They ran, hand in hand while laughing like little kids, toward the front gate.

The two people waiting at the turnstiles had to be Izuku's friends. A tall, wide man with blond hair and oval sapphire blue eyes stood beside a short teenage girl of about sixteen with grayish blue hair in a chin length bob, scarlet eyes, and a small horn on the right side of her forehead.

"Midorya! Hey, Midoriya!" yelled the blonde man waving his beefy arm as if they could not see him. With muscles on par to All Might's at the height of his career, this guy would be hard to miss.

The cute girl with huge eyes offered a shy wave. "Hi!"

"Takara Otani, this is Mirio Togata and Eri. Guys, this is Takara," Izuku introduced them.

"Your girlfriend?" Mirio asked. Without waiting for an answer, he surged forward enveloping her in a back breaking hug. "Oh, it's so nice to meet your girlfriend, Midoriya."

He picked her up and swung her around before setting her back down on her feet.

"She's so pretty too!" he exclaimed exhuberantly.

"Good lord," she murmured, swaying slightly as dizziness washed over her. "Is he always like this?"

"Always," Izuku said, smiling broadly at her.

"Hey, come on!" Mirio yelled, grabbing her hand and charging toward the turnstiles. "Let's go have some fun!"

"Hi, Izuku," Eri greeted him , as soft spoken and sweet as ever. She hugged him gently. "Your girlfriend seems nice."

"She is. I'll try to make sure you get a chance to properly say hello before Mirio drags her all over the park and wears her out too much."

"Where do you think they went?" Eri asked, dropping her token into the slot and pushing through the turnstile.

"What's the biggest, scariest ride here?" Izuku pondered aloud, scanning the garishly lit rides which encompassed a relatively small area. "At least they couldn't have gone far."

"There," she said, pointing toward the old-fashioned, rickety looking wooden roller coaster.

"That has to be it. I guess part of the scare factor is that it might fall down at any minute," he said, only half joking, as they walked toward the clacking coaster.

The screams of the passengers could barely be heard over the god-awful sound of metal clanking. Yep, that sounds safe.

"At least we're with two heroes who can save us." She threaded her arm through his as they walked toward the line where Mirio and Takara were already waiting. "You'll always be my hero. Thank you."

Izuku blushed deeply.

"You don't have to keep thanking me. I just wish...I just wish there were a few things I could change. If I had done something sooner...maybe - "

"Yeah," she interrupted him, "you need to stop doing that too. Everything worked out fine."

Mirio talked fast and loud as usual, making a spectacle of himself by waving his arms a lot and spinning in circles as he told Takara some wild anecdote no doubt. Takara laughed which made Izuku smile.

"You love her, don't you?" Eri asked, squeezing his arm.

"Is it that obvious?" he inquired, casting a glance at her which made his blush deepen when he noticed the intense way Eri studied his face.

"You've never been able to hide your emotions very well. I'm glad for you. Thank you for the tickets to the charity event tomorrow. I'm looking forward to it."

"Hey, guys! Come on! It's our turn next!" Mirio hollered at them as they moved up to the head of the line for the next cart.

Mirio Togata was a ball of movement and noise. He never stopped moving or talking even when on the rides. He told terrible Dad jokes and spouted awful one liners at random.

While waiting in line for the swing ride he told her the story of his first sparring match with Izuku's class complete with sound effects and somewhat restrained reenactments of certain moves.

Miro coddled Eri and kept her under close watch at all times unless she was being guarded by Izuku. They were like two over-protective dads which she found incredibly endearing.

Takara's mind inadvertently strayed to ponderings of what kind of father Izuku would be. He was pretty darn impressive so far considering how he interacted with the children at the hospital and with a teenaged Eri here.

Later, in between bites of his corndog, Mirio relayed their epic battle with the Shie Hassaikai when they saved Eri from the abusive clutches of Kai Chisaki. Takara remembered reading articles about that event. He told her about losing his quirk and restoring it a few years later with the help of Eri when she learned to control her quirk.

Over dessert he admitted their first failure to save Eri. When relaying the story, Takara noticed the way Eri held both Mirio and Izuku's hands as if reminding them everything was okay and she was okay because of them.

Listening to Mirio made her want to believe the good guys always won in the end. There would always be a happy ending.

On the ferris wheel, Takara and Izuku were awarded a minute together because the bucket type seats only allowed for two passengers. They never said a word to each other.

They relished the tranquil moment with a relative degree of silence. They held hands and enjoyed the delightful view of the entire park and the black water of the ocean extending beyond the wooden boardwalk lining the edge of the park.

When the were stuck at the top as passengers were being let off at the bottom, they shared a kiss. What a perfect night.

By the time the evening ended and they said their good-byes at the gate, Takara was completely exhausted. She leaned heavily on Izuku, laying her head on his shoulders as she forced one foot to move in front of the other back to her car.

"You're going to have to drive. I just...can't," she exhaled wearily.

"He's a lot isn't he?"

"Yeah. But I like him. When we plan do something with him, remind me to take a nap before. I wish I could have talked to Eri a little more. She's so quiet and cute. I would like to spend some time with her. Think she would like to have a girl's day out?"

"I think she would like that. Did you have fun?" he asked, opening her door for her.

"I had a blast! And I'm so relieved I did not puke once. I must admit I came close a few times," she confessed, pressing her hand to her belly which presently felt a twinge of queasiness.

Between the cheeseburger, the chili cheese fries, the crepe cone, and three kinds of taiyaki combined with all of the herky-jerky rides it was an epic feat for her to not vomit. Her tummy gurgled ominously. Hopefully she did not speak too soon.

"Are you okay?" Izuku asked, holding onto her arm as she wobbled uncertainly.

"I think so. Let's go home...quickly," she said, sitting down in the seat.

A few times she was tempted to ask him to pull over when the nausea would rise until she was sure she would be sick. Then the urge to vomit would slowly subside. She feared Katsuki would be right about the swirling and hurling.

Once Izuku pulled into the apartment complex parking lot, Takara knew it was over. She was barely been able to wait until the vehicle came to a complete stop before opening the door and launching herself from the seat.

Lurching forward, she doubled over beside the front tire where her stomach unleashed what it had held back an impressively long time.

Gentle fingers stroked her cheeks as he assisted her with gathering her hair to hold it back in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. He patted her back as she continued to convulse and projectile vomit.

"I-I'm s-sorry," she stuttered between heaving.

"It's okay," Izuku assured her.

Tears squeezed from the corners of her eyes and ran down her face as her stomach continued to rebel against her. She would swear she got rid of everything clear back to breakfast.

"Ugh," she groaned, sniffing back more tears that wanted to fall. "Oh, god, this is humiliating."

"At least you didn't lose it at the park. You did good to keep up with Mirio. Not just with running around and riding all of the rides...twice... but eating all of that food as well. You gotta give yourself credit for that," he said, picking her up in a princess carry in order to take her to her apartment.

"I can walk."

"Let's not chance it."

Izuku carried her all the way to her apartment door before setting her down on her feet so he could type in the code. She walked inside of her own volition, kicking off her shoes and allowing them to land wherever.

Izuku picked up her haphazardly discarded shoes and placed them side by side as she went to the refrigerator. He kept his eyes on her as she passed by him to walk down the hall, cracking open the drink as she went.

"Taking a shower?" Izuku asked, following her to the open bedroom door. He resisted the urge to pick up her clothing that she had shed from the open door to the bathroom.

"Yeah. Will you still be here when I get out?" she called loudly over the sound of the water.

"Yeah. I'll be in the living room."

"Okay."

Izuku found a movie to watch while he waited. He did not have to wait for long. Twenty minutes later she emerged wearing sleep shorts and tank top. Then shorts were red and pink plaid. The top pink with an applique of a white sheep wearing a red sleep cap and holding a teddy bear.

She went to the refrigerator, getting two bottles of water before joining him on the couch. She smelled like vanilla and mint.

"I brushed my teeth three times. Yuck," she muttered, grimacing with disgust. "I'm so sorry I ruined our evening."

"You didn't ruin anything."

"Are you tired?" she asked, threading her fingers through his to hold his hand.

"A little. I know you're beat though. I should go," he said, standing up.

"You don't have to leave," she said, her fingers tightening around his. "You can stay. We can go to bed. Together. Like last night."

Her stomach flip flopped as his eyes met hers. Not from feeling sick but from nervousness, possibly a little excitement.

"Are you sure? You're awfully tired. And you got sick so maybe I should - "

Takara untangled her fingers from his. She had already told him she wanted him to stay. If he wanted to go, he could go. She would not force him to stay somewhere he did not want to be.

"Good night, Izuku," she said, grabbing the remote and turning off the television as he went to the door.

"Good night, Takara," he said, shoving his foot into his shoe. He hesitated before putting the other one on. "What am I doing? She asked me to stay. I should stay. I want to stay. Why am I leaving?"

"Did you ask me something?" she asked, finishing off her water. She honestly had not heard him because he was doing that muttering thing where he holds a whole damn conversation with himself.

"No, I - " He paused, removing his shoe by pushing it off with his other foot. "I...I-I want to st-stay...with y-you."

Takara would swear she could see him shaking. Why was he so apprehensive all of a sudden? He slept over last night after all.

"Okay. Well, let's go to bed," she said, extending her hand to him.

When he took her hand, she could feel him trembling. Why the hell is he so nervous? Everything was fine last night. Nothing happened. As far as she knew, nothing was going to happen tonight. Barfing her guts up had to be a major mood killer.

When they reached the bed, Izuku lay his hand on her shoulder to turn her to face him. Placing his hands on either said of her face, he gazed into her eyes.

Takara's stomach somersaulted nervously as the seconds seemed to stretch into minutes as he stared at her in silence. His big green eyes bounced back and forth between hers as if searching for something deep within them. He looked sad - and frightened.

"What is it?" she asked, the corners of her mouth twitching to form an anxious smile. "What's wrong?"

"I'm scared, but...but I can't miss an opportunity to do...to do what I want to do...what I should do," he said, his lips quivering as he spoke. "I want to...I want to show you how I feel."

"Izuku, what...what are you talking about?"

He did not say anything in return. His thumbs stroked the corners of her mouth, coaxing it into a smile as his eyes dropped to her lips.

"Are you sure? I did get sick you know," she reminded him as if he could forget what happened less than thirty minutes ago.

"You brushed your teeth three times right?" he asked in return.

"Uh huh," she confirmed, staring at his slightly parted lips.

"I think I'll be good to chance it."

Izuku did not move.

Takara tilted her chin upward slightly, closing her eyes. Maybe if she invited him to take the kiss he wanted, that she wanted, he would accept. An electrical tingle stung her lips as his lips hovered over hers.

The contact was feather-light but made her jump in surprise because he actually acted on his desire. His lips were offset from hers, catching her top lip between them. Her belly fluttered as a million butterflies of exhilaration took flight.

He lifted his lips making her think the kiss was over. To her great delight, his mouth settled back against hers, this time on her lower lip. His lips parted slightly, moving across hers to capture her entire mouth for a complete kiss.

Takara stepped forward, pressing the full length of her body against his. His muscular body felt hard yet pliable when pushing into her softer but toned physique. She trembled with anticipation as his fingers glided down both sides of her neck, across her shoulders, and down her arms leaving a trail of goosebumps wherever they roamed.

Izuku slid his hands between her waist and arms, enclosing her body with his strong arms. In turn, she rested her hands on his sinewy shoulders. His lips moved across her cheek to her ear. The muscles at her lower back drew tighter when his warm breath tickled her ear.

"I love you, Takara Otani," he whispered.

"Izuku, I - " Before she could finish speaking, his mouth covered hers for another tender kiss.

Takara writhed against him, her breasts flattening against his hard chest as his hand slid up her back pulling her more securely to him for an embrace. His calloused fingertips aroused every nerve ending they delicately caressed across her bare back and shoulders. She tore her mouth from his to inhale deeply when his hand slipped over her shoulder and between them to cup her breast.

"Are we..." A moan cut off her words when he kneaded her breast, his thumb rubbing across the already tight and stimulated nipple. "Are you going to make love to me?"

"Do you want me to?" he asked, pushing her a step back toward the bed.

"What's your desire, Izuku? You give and you give and never take for yourself. What do _you_ want?"

"I want to make love to you," he confessed, his other hand grasping her butt cheek and lifting her up.

Her legs immediately wrapped around his waist to hold her body to his. Unfortunately, having his other hand on her breast and not balancing her body weight caused him to overbalance and topple over on the bed.

Thankfully they had a soft landing, her getting only slightly squished under his heavy muscular body. Somehow they managed not to head butt each other. They broke into giggles to alleviate the awkwardness of their present predicament as he shifted his body off to the side as not to crush her further.

As the chuckling died away, Izuku grew serious once again. He kissed her, quickly resetting the mood and picking up where he left off.

"I want to make love to you. I want to make you mine," he said.

"I would like that too. But..." She inhaled a shaky breath, meeting his intense gaze. "You know I can't be yours exclusively."

"I know...but you misunderstand,"he said, resting his fingers on the silver of skin bared at her waist. "In this given moment, you will be mine and mine alone."

Izuku pushed his fingers under the hem of her tank top, gathering the material at his wrist as he skimmed his hand up her torso. His hand covered her breast, massaging until he dragged a moan of delight from her lips. Though rough and scarred, powerful enough to punch holes in buildings or lift a steel beam, his hands were gentle, eliciting pleasure where they could cause pain.

Takara lifted her hips when the fingers of his other hand tugged at the waistband of her sleep shorts. She assisted him with removing the shorts and her underwear at the same time. Her hands grabbed at his t-shirt as he bent to press a kiss to the swell of her breast.

Her fingers twisted into the cotton of his shirt, pulling as he continued to drop soft little kisses on her breast. Losing her grip on his shirt and her senses, she arched her back thrusting her nipple into his searching mouth. Forgetting about the shirt, her hand found the button of his shorts, pushing and pulling until it slipped free.

Izuku lifted his mouth from her breast. He grabbed the hem of his shirt yanking upward while her hands went to his shorts to pull them down. While he finished undressing, she removed her tank top and tossed it away.

Takara lay back in the bed, biting her lower lip as he positioned himself between her legs. As he loomed over her, she gazed at his bulky yet well defined muscles. So many scars marked his arms and chest. Each one a testament to his strong will to become a hero. His greatest dream made a reality as evidenced by his beaten and broken body.

Her fingers shook as they traced a scar across his pectoral that ended over his heart. Tears flooded her eyes making his face waver and blur in her sight. She gasped when his hand covered hers pressing it flat against his heart. The rapid, uneven beat of his heart pulsated through her palm.

"Takara," he said, drawing her eyes to his.

Their eyes locked and not a word passed between them. His heart calmed, developing a steady pace.

"I love you," she whispered, tears sliding from the outer corner of her eyes and dampening her hair at her temples.

"I love you too," he returned in kind.

Takara held his gaze while he entered her. Her mouth dropped open as if she wanted to cry out, but she never made a sound. His eyes slowly closed as he sank into her deeper, filling her, becoming one. He opened his eyes again to reconnect with her completely.

_I want to make you mine. _His words replayed in her head as he made love to her, slowly, sweetly. He brought her to an orgasm first, holding back, stopping at times, to keep himself from finishing before her. When she toppled over that glorious edge into the blissful abyss, he tumbled in soon after, holding her, whispering declarations of love to her as she clutched his shuddering body close to hers.

Takara enveloped him in her arms, refusing to let him go. He rested his head on her chest, laying beside her with his arm hooked securely around her waist to keep her next to him. She listened to his ragged, noisy breaths which gradually evened out and deepened as he relaxed. Soon he was asleep in her arms, leaving her lying awake: satisfied, content, and tired but so damn elated she felt like she could run ten miles.

"I love you, Izuku Midoriya."


	8. A Different Love

Author's Note: Hi all! Welcome to the update! Not to spoil anything but just as a warning for those who would rather skip it, there is a sex scene at the end of this chapter. It involves handcuffs but is still tame.

So with that warning and no further ado, read on gentle reader and please enjoy.

* * *

Takara was awakened by gentle little kisses being dropped all over her face. She groaned and cuddled closer to Izuku, accepting his kiss on her lips. The kiss was exceptionally brief, bringing her to full wakefulness when he pulled away.

"I'm sorry," Izuku apologized, stroking her head to calm her horrible case of bedhead. "I need to go."

"Don't apologize. Just a few more minutes," she begged, enclosing his neck with her arms.

"Takara," he moaned regretfully, unable to say no as he pulled her close and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm already late."

"I'm sorry," she apologized to him this time. With one more kiss, she pushed him away despite not wanting to let him go at all. "You better go then."

"I'll see you tonight. Okay?" he asked, reluctantly getting out of the bed.

He had already showered and dressed. She was glad he woke her up to say good-bye without just leaving her alone.

"Okay. Hey," she called as he ran through the door.

He backed up, peeking his head back in the door. "Yeah?"

Suddenly she felt self-conscious and almost too shy to say the words that had tumbled past her lips so easily last night. "I love you."

Izuku's face broke into such a wide grin his cheeks scrunched up narrowing his eyes until she could no longer see their gorgeous green color. He ran back to her, kissing her lips then her forehead.

"I love you too."

"Go, go, shoo," she said, waving him away with a smile on her face.

Takara sat in the bed, listening for the front door to close. After hearing the click, she grabbed a pillow to slam it over her face to muffle her excited scream of joy.

"How fucking old are you?" Katsuki demanded.

Shocked and embarrassed by his voice coming out of nowhere, she threw the pillow toward the door. The fluffy projectile hit him with a muted "whoompf" then fell to the floor.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, pulling the sheet up to her chin to cover her breasts although she was sure he had already seen them.

Besides, what the hell was she hiding them from him for? He had already given her a glimpse of his ass. A case of tit for tat in the most literal sense. However, she was not feeling quite that charitable after him scaring the hell of her with his unexpected, but not necessarily unwanted, presence.

"Am I no longer allowed to come and go as I please from my girlfriend's apartment?" he asked, sitting down on the foot of the bed.

"No, it's not that. It's just..." She struggled to find the words to explain. "What if Izuku and I had been..."

"Fucking?" offering the crude word knowing it was not the one she was looking for.

Takara kicked him in the butt under the covers. Her face burned with embarrassment, although she not be offended by his coarse speech.

"No!" she yelled, twisting the sheet nervously in her hands. "Making love."

"Oh, my god," Katsuki muttered rolling his eyes. "You're being very cute right now but also annoying as hell. Listen here," he began, catching her eyes to show her how serious he was about his next words. "When I get my hands on you, I'm going to fuck you good and hard. Make no mistake about that. That's why I wanted you to be with Izuku first."

"Is it?" she asked, chewing her lower lip as her anxiety rose.

Katsuki scooted across the bed until he could cup her face between his hands. His eyes skirted over her entired face before meeting hers again.

"This is why our relationship is going to work and no one will feel like they're missing out on anything. We will both love you but in different ways. From Izuku you will get tenderness, affection. He will whisper sweet, romantic words to you. He will be the one to hold you when you cry. He will make love to you when you want to be treated gently like a precious, delicate treasure. He will be your rock...the dependable one...the man who will always be there for you no matter what."

He stopped speaking, his eyes flicking back and forth between hers. His irises are the same deep rich shade of a crimson glory rose. They slide away from hers as the silence lengthens.

"But?" she prodded him when the pregnant pause made her pulse pound in her ears.

"But I'm not like him. You can't, and shouldn't, expect the same things from me. I will love you...but differently. I'm the one who will give you fun and excitement and always surprise you. I'm a little bit dangerous and very unpredictable."

He wasn't wrong. He was all over dangerous and unpredictable with the motorcycle ride and beach picnic date.

"I'll be the one to add a little necessary roughness to your sex life," he said, his mouth tilting into an arrogant grin. "And trust me, you're going to like it."

"But how many nights have you spent with me on the couch cuddling and watching movies and falling asleep? The cute little flirtations? The well planned date? I don't...I don't understand," she said, staring at his face which offered no hint as to what was going through his head.

Takara had no idea what he might actually be getting at. Was he having second thoughts and trying to make her say she did not want to have this kind of relationship anymore? Once again, he was sending mixed signals and confusing her.

"Don't look so afraid, Mi Cara," he said, pulling her into his arms to hug her. "I don't want things to end. I just...I just didn't expect to feel the way I feel right now."

"Jealous?" she guessed.

"Yeah," he admitted. "I thought it would be no big deal. I considered how I would feel before it happened a thousand times, but I never...I never thought it would feel this...bad."

"This is one of the major issues I was worried about with a relationship like this," she sighed, embracing him tightly when he began to pull away.

"You smell like him," he mumbled, pushing her away. "That's not helping."

"I'm sorry. I'll go get a shower," she murmured, her face heating again with embarrassment and her eyeballs stinging as she slid over to the side of the bed closest to the bathroom.

Takara got into the shower relieved that the water would wash away the tears she had been holding back. She feared this most of all with their triangular situation. Although she never expected the one to have hurt feelings to be Katsuki. The toughest exteriors seemed to hide the most fragile hearts. Maybe that's why they act like assholes to begin with; to push everyone away before they get hurt.

After her shower, she slipped into her bathrobe and wrapped her hair in a towel to avoid spending too much more time in the bathroom. She had washed her hair twice and scrubbed down with two different kinds of soap. She also stopped to brush her teeth before walking back out into the bedroom.

The room was empty. Wondering where Katsuki had gone, afraid he had left her, she glanced around her bedroom as if she had gotten lost and did not know where she was.

"Katsuki?" she called out, not expecting an answer.

"I'm in here," he rejoined from the kitchen.

As soon as Takara stepped into the hall, the glorious scent of coffee filled her nose. He must not be too angry since he went to make coffee for her. As they had already discussed, this type of relationship is new territory for all of them and they would have to figure everything out as they go along - including the emotional ramifications.

Katsuki stood with his back to her. He was wearing an orange tank top and black jeans. She hated the color orange until she saw him wear it. The muscles in his broad shoulders and brawny back flexed as he moved to get cups from the cabinet.

Takara moved up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She pressed her right cheek against his back between his shoulder blades. His abdominal muscles contracted making his belly solid and hard like a slab of cement under her palms.

"I do love you. You know that...right?" she asked, stepping back when he tried to turn.

"I do," he assured her, enclosing her shoulders with his sinewy arms. He kissed her cheek, pulling her against him. "Just give me time to adjust. I've never been in something like this before."

"Yeah. This threesome is definitely something different," she said, resting her hands on his hips.

"No, you idiot," he muttered irritably, standing up straight to look down at her. His eyes held a soft, dreamy expression when he looked at her. "I've never been in love before."

"Never?" she gasped in disbelief, blinking up at him.

Her mind could not comprehend him never being in love before. No puppy love in elementary school? Not even a fleeting crush in high school? He did not find a girl to fall in in love with in college? How could someone be his age and never have been in love of some kind even a fleeting crush?

Takara would bet money Izuku had been in love at least half a dozen times - which was not a bad thing. He simply struck her as the type who would be in love with the whole idea of being in love and would give himself over to it easily not being afraid of the consequences or when the relationship might end. As a matter of fact, that would make him emotionally more suited to an arrangement like this.

Looking at the big tough man towering above her, staring down at her with eyes warm and red, a symbolic color of love itself. He is like the weather, constantly changing at a moments notice. With all of his grunting and growling, he made her forget he would be the fragile one - the one whose heart she would have to handle with special care.

"You know if you want coffee you're going to have to let me go," he groused, holding his arms up above his head.

"You're right, you're right," she agreed with a sigh, unhinging her arms and backing up. She took that as her hint to back off because he had endured enough unfamiliar and heart rending emotions for one day.

Katsuki turned back toward the coffee pot, pouring them both a cup. He even added the cream to hers, just the way she likes it, before handing it to her.

"Mmmm," she hummed with satisfaction, inhaling the steaming beige colored liquid in her cup. Before she could take a sip, her phone rang. "Dammit."

Takara reluctantly walked away from him to retrieve her phone from the table by the door. She saw Maestro Donati's name on her caller ID. Worry immediately seized her heart, squeezing it with fear.

"Maestro?" she answered her phone.

"Ah, Buongiorno, Mi Cara," he greeted her cheerfully.

She exhaled in relief. He sounded fine and happy. That set her at ease.

"Buongiorno," she returned. "Is everything all right?"

"Everythin' is fine, jus' fine," he responded. "That is why I am calling. All of you have done such a good job, I am calling off practice for today. All I ask is that you make a visit to the children's hospital."

"I can definitely do that, Sir. Are we having a practice before the concert?"

"No, no, no! Go, relax, have fun. I don't want to see you until an hour before the performance," he said. "Be prepared to do your best for the children."

"Yes, sir! See you tomorrow night."

"Chow!"

Her phone beeped signalling he had hung up without waiting for her to return the closing.

"Hey, Katsuki?" she called out to him, returning to the kitchen where he stood in the same spot drinking his coffee.

"Yeah?" he asked, raising a thin blond eyebrow in response to her dubious actions when she sidled up to him and put her hands on his waist.

"What are you doing today?"

"Why?"

"Would you like to go to the children's hospital with me?"

"No," he replied curtly, raising his cup to his lips.

Takara stomped her foot and poked out her bottom lip, shamelessly pouting in front of him with her arms crossed. "Oh, come on! Please."

"You come on. Give a guy a break. I've been feeling enough for one day. That's a Midoriya kinda think you know."

"Why can't it be a you kinda thing?" she shot back, mocking his tough guy voice.

"This is what I was talking about. That's just not me. I can't deal with a lot of snot nosed rugrats pawing at me and wiping their germs all over me." He sneered with disgust.

"Dammit, Bakugo," she grumbled, picking up her coffee to take a sip. "These are terminally ill kids. Don't be an asshole."

"I _am_ an asshole," he reminded her. "This is what I've been trying to explain to you."

"Hm, that's true. It's not like you've tried to hide that fact. Fine, fine," she sighed, waving her hand dismissively. "I won't bother you anymore about it."

"Wanna go for a ride on my motorcycle? I'll take you there," he offered with a cocky grin on his face.

He seemed so convinced she would say no to the apparently insincere offer she decided to be a stubborn ass herself and take him up on it.

"Sure. Let me go get dressed," she said, drinking down the rest of her coffee.

"Huh?" he mumbled, staring after her as she walked away. "Hey! You weren't supposed to say yes! You hate riding on my motorcycle right?"

"You said you would be the one to offer adventure, excitement, danger," she reminded him, yelling from her bedroom. "I'm accepting your offer instead of being a big chicken."

She liked being able to yell back at him without feeling like she was doing something wrong. She had to admit there was something cathartic about raising one's voice and blasting out your emotions with your words. Maybe that's why Katsuki did it so much. He was pissed about something all of the time for no good reason. Being angry and yelling is his standard operating mode.

Around Izuku she felt like she needed to speak in hushed, quiet tones because he was always so sweet and soft spoken. So far she had not heard him raise his voice in anything but excitement - never in anger. Honestly, she never wanted to see him angry because she would guess him being furious had to be a terrifying thing brought on by drastic and awful circumstances.

"What am I supposed to do while you're there babysitting?" Katsuki hollered at her.

"Hell if I know! You're the one who asked to take me!" she shouted in return.

"Yeah, but I never - " Then he cut off his own words.

"Aha!" she bellowed in an accusatory tone, rushing back into the kitchen while buttoning her shirt.

Takara had dressed in jeans and a loose fitting eyelet lace oxford shirt to keep the outfit comfortable but chic and feminine. Katsuki seemed to like it by the way his eyes moved over her body when she appeared. Stepping right up to him, she glared up at him with all of the ire she could muster.

"You never thought I'd accept that motorcycle ride and that's why you shouldn't have made an insincere offer. Well, you listen," she said, poking him in the chest.

She felt like she had broken her finger by poking a brick wall. She poked him again a few good times, extending two more fingers and putting the strength of her entire hand behind it.

"You listen, pal," she said with what she believed to be a pretty good impression of his grouchy attitude. "You made the offer, I accepted it, and you're driving me. Got that?"

Katsuki smiled down at her. A big leering grin like a Cheshire Cat.

"What's wrong with your face?" Takara demanded, lifting her chin defiantly.

His fingers went to the top button on her shirt, freeing the small round pearl button from the hole. She smacked his hand with a stinging slap when he unbuttoned the one below that as well. She had just buttoned the dozen tiny buttons on this shirt, and he damn sure was not taking it off of her now.

"We're not doing that right now. You don't deserve it," she snapped, pivoting on her heel and walking away from him.

"I'm impressed," he said, watching her shove her feet into her ankle boots.

"With what?"

Takara yelped when he grabbed her from behind, pulling her behind hard against his crotch. He was hard, excited. He was ready to ride something, and it wasn't his motorcycle.

"I never expected you to have a dominant side," Katsuki murmured, kissing the back of her neck.

That gravelly, growly sexy voice of his in her ear made her want to turn around and smash her lips into his. It was tempting to grab her shirt and rip it open, sending every single one of those frustrating little buttons flying. But not only was she mad at him, she paid a lot of money for this stupid shirt.

Takara elbowed him in the ribs to make him let her go. There was an odd sense of gratification at the sound of him grunting in pain as he released her then wheezed to reclaim the breath she had mercilessly knocked out of him.

She had never thought of herself as having the desire to be dominant and certainly not with sadistic tendencies. Damn! This irritating man might help her discover a few things she did not know about herself.

"Pull yourself together, Bakugo," she commanded him, whirling around to glare at him with steely eyes. "Let's go."

Giving her that lopsided little smirk, he replied with a nod, "Yes, ma'am."

Takara was nervous and more than a little scared as she transferred everything from her purse into a small backpack. She had no one to blame but herself which really sucked. She couldn't even blame Katsuki for making her ride the motorcycle this time. He had tried to backpedal and get out of making the suggestion, but she would not allow him.

Katsuki had told her he was for danger and for fun, and she needed to get used to that. No time like the present. After shrugging on the backpack, she followed him downstairs to the basement garage.

Chewing her bottom lip, she watched his gloved hands as he unlocked the padlock to their private storage locker and pushed the door open. There sat her nemesis: the shiny red and black crotch rocket that was as intimidating as a wild horse.

_I can do this, _she told herself not allowing that little inner voice to speak doubt to her. _I will have fun. _

Takara studied Katsuki as he checked out the bike, making sure the tires and everything were okay. She smiled and relaxed, knowing he would keep her safe as he rolled the motorcycle he deemed fit for the road out of the locker.

"Do you mind closing that?" he asked, handing her the lock and jerking his chin toward the door.

"Not at all," she replied.

Grabbing the short length of rope attached to the bottom of the rolling door, she pulled the door down and secured the padlock while he started the motorcycle. The engine roared echoing through the garage with such ferocity it was deafening. She jumped and squealed at the awful cacophony of noise which made him laugh.

Takara approached the motorcycle, holding out her hand for the helmet.

"You still want to do this?" he asked in a shout, revving the motor.

"Yes!" she yelled back.

He shrugged and flipped down his tinted face shield blocking out the sight of his face. He pointed behind him with his thumb telling her to get on. After tugging on her helmet, she threw her leg of the seat and slid on behind him.

"Here we go!" he warned her, releasing the brake and taking of with a shriek of rubber on concrete and a puff of acrid black smoke.

Takara held on making sure to keep her hold on him secure but loose as not to hinder his breathing or squeeze him in half. Since they were forced to drive mainly in heavy city traffic, there were no sharp, scary turns, and he could not go too fast. This trip was not so bad and actually kind of pleasant.

By the time they arrived at the hospital, she had a smile on her face. When he pulled under the covered walkway leading to the front entrance, she hopped off and removed the helmet. To see his face and mostly to hear his voice better, she reached out and flipped up the face shield of his helmet.

"I'm going inside," she told him, leaning forward to kiss his nose because the part of the helmet covered his mouth. "Meet me on the third floor, Katsuki."

"I'll be in as soon as I can. I'm going to ask the guard where to park," he informed her, waving the uniformed man over from where he stood at the sliding entrance doors.

Takara practically skipped inside, giddy from the adrenaline rush brought on by the motorcycle ride. She could get used to that. On her way to the bank of elevators, she waved at the two women seated at the front desk.

"Hey, Takara, I think they need you on the fourth floor today," one of the women told her.

"Fourth floor?" she questioned her.

"The neonatal ward," the other woman informed her. "They need cuddlers."

Cuddlers are people who hold the premature newborns to give them the stimulating contact that helps stimulate them to eat therefore they gain body weight more quickly. Studies have also shown the healing power of touch also improves their immune system as well.

"Oh, okay," she replied cheerily, wondering how Katsuki would react. "Please tell the blonde gentleman wearing biker gear to meet me on the fourth floor please."

The women at each other, one winking and the other giving an shake of her head and shrug of her shoulders in return.

"Oh, trust me. You'll know exactly who he is when he comes through," she assured them, going to the elevators.

At least he would not have snot nosed brats putting their germy hands all over him. Katsuki really could be an incredibly big jerk sometimes.

Actually, to touch the premature babies, they would have to be cleansed and disinfected. They would have to shower with a special antibacterial soap and change into sanitary scrubs. They would also be given gowns to go over that as well as caps, masks, and booties. Only their hands, after receiving another disinfection, would be left bare to touch the babies.

Katsuki was not going to be happy. But he would get over it.

Takara went straight up to the fourth floor to begin her preparation process. She had just emerged from the bathroom in her scrubs when Katsuki arrived on the floor. He glanced at her then at the nurses standing in front of him with piles of clothes in their hands and large grins of anticipation on their faces.

"What's going on?" he asked, his eyes bouncing from woman to woman with a questioning glimpse back at her.

"We're holding preemies today. You need to get prepared," she said right before one of the nurses grabbed his wrist.

"Right this way, sir," she enthusiastically announced, dragging him toward the shower room while the other nurse pushed him from behind with a hand between his shoulder blades.

Takara giggled as the took him away. She doubted she would have to worry about those two hanging around and getting a peek at him in the shower. He could take care of himself for sure. Not that Izuku couldn't fend off the frisky nurses. Katsuki would just be a whole lot more aggressive in shoving them out of the bathroom as not to have an audience during his shower.

"So who's this guy?" the head nurse on duty asked her as she helped pull on the yellow gown to cover her green scrubs.

"Ah...hmm...he's a..." She hesitated. She couldn't dare say boyfriend since she had introduced Izuku as her boyfriend. The nurses around the hospital were still talking his visit and anticipating his next one.

"Friend?" the head nurse helpfully suggested, sensing her quandary.

"A very special friend," she added, trying not to make it sound like an unseemly implication.

"I see," the older woman with a knowing smile murmured, pulling the thin blue cap over Takara's hair she had pulled back and swirled into a bun after her shower.

"Will you help him when he comes out and send him in?" she asked as she slipped the blue cloth covers over her sock covered feet. The heels of her boots would have ripped right through them.

"Of course. Let's go get you situated first," she said, handing over a mask and ushering Takara into the nursery.

Six plastic incubators sat in three rows of two. Tiny babies that looked like dolls lay inside with tubes and wires attached to their thin little arms and legs. Machines beeped and whirred creating a weird kind of music to fill the silence.

Takara sat down in one of the rocking chairs in the corner of the room. Her eyes followed the nurse as she went to an incubator and turned off the light being used to treat the baby for jaundice. Next the monitors, IVs, and feeding tube were unhooked. She sat up straight and tall, leaning forward in anticipation as the nurse lifted out the miniature human that made their entrance into this world a little too early.

The baby, barely bigger than the nurses hand was wrapped in a soft white blanket. The tiniest fingers she had had ever seen reached up, splaying out as the baby was nestled into her arms. The child made a low mewling sound like a kitten, barely a cry.

"Takara, this is Katsurou. His name means victory."

"Oh, my goodness. Hi, Katsurou," she cooed at the baby in her arms. "You are a fighter, aren't you?"

"Here," the nurse said, giving her a tiny bottle fit for a doll. "Rub his cheek with your thumb to entice him to turn his head toward the bottle. Rub the nipple on his bottom lip to open his mouth and take it. We need to teach them to suckle so they can learn to eat on their own and the feedig tube can be removed."

Takara followed the instructions given to her. At first the baby grunted and snorted irritably, refusing to accept the bottle. The grumpy sounds of stubbornness reminded her of Katsuki.

"Don't give up. Just be patient and keep trying. I'll go get your friend," the nurse said, patting her on the shoulder and leaving the room.

"Come on, sweetheart, come on," she whispered to the baby, rubbing his cheek with the tip of her pinkie. "You need to learn to eat so you can grow up big and strong."

"All rightie, Mr. Bakugo," the nurse began as they entered the room. "Take a seat over there in the rocking chair by your friend."

"I don't know if I should do this. They are just so tiny...and my hands are so big," he said, sitting down after the nurse pushed him down. "I just don't know if - "

"You'll be fine," she assured him, going to an incubator. "Hands like yours are perfect for comforting and holding these little ones."

The nurse walked toward him with a small, squeaking pink bundle. One would think she was preparing to hand him a hot coal with the wide eyed expression of dread on his face. He acted as if he planned to crawl through the spindles on the back of the chair to escape.

"Katsuki," Takara called to him. "It's a human baby, not a porcupine. Calm down. Take a deep breath and relax. You're a hero right?"

"Yeah, but - "

"You're saving a life right now," she said. "Come on. You can do this."

"Ready?" the nurse asked him.

He nodded, extending his arms to accept the baby although the preemie pretty much fit in his hand.

Takara would have never guessed the one thing in the world that could strike absolute terror into Katsuki Bakugo's heart would be a premature infant weighing only four and a half pounds. She kept her eyes on him as he brought the tiny baby girl to his wide brawny chest to cradle her against his heart. She felt as if she might melt watching the foul mouthed, macho hero handling the child.

"Remember to stay calm and keep your voice low. These babies are extremely sensitive to sound," the nurse said, preparing to leave the room. "If you need anything, I'll be right next door."

On her way out, she turned down the lights in the room to a muted glow because they are also sensitive to excessively bright light.

Takara's attention was drawn back to baby in her arms when he began to whimper and fuss in earnest. She rubbed the nipple on his lower lip to try to tempt him to take the bottle one more time. This time he moved his head side to side, rooting around as it called in search of the nipple. She carefully pushed the bottle bottle forward, and he accepted it.

"Oh, yay," she whispered happily. "There you go, baby. Now you'll grow up big and strong like Mr. Explodey Pants over here."

"What the hell did you just call me?" he asked in a hushed voice she never would have thought him capable of using.

"Bakugo, don't use that language in front of the children," she admonished him.

"They're infants. They have no idea what I'm saying. And don't call me something that makes me sound like I have serious issues with Irritable Bowel Syndrome," he fussed at her in a calm and low voice as not to upset the baby in his arms.

Takara studied the small face of the baby as he lazily sucked at the bottle. She smiled, massaging his cheek with her fingertip to encourage him to keep going.

"Hey, Takara," Katsuki called to her.

"Hmmm?"

"Do you want children someday?"

His question took her by surprise making every muscle in her body contract. The baby immediately turned his head away from the bottle sensing the stress in her body.

"Oh, sweetheart no," she cooed, trying to get him to take the bottle again.

"You don't?" Katsuki asked in disbelief, his voice ringing with disappointment.

"I don't what?" she questioned him, having been distracted by the baby.

"You don't want kids?"

"I do. Why?"

"But you said - "

"Ohhh," she gasped. "I do want kids. I was freaking out because little man here stopped taking his bottle."

"Oh, okay," he said, glancing down at the content little girl nestled against his chest.

"Your heartbeat must be very steady. You've got a happy camper there." She paused then asked him, "Do you want children?"

"I think I might," he answered noncommittally.

Takara bowed her head to hide her smile, studying the baby in her arms. "I think you'd be a great father."

"You do?" He sounded surprised.

"I do," she confirmed. "You're a kind, gentle man with a good heart. Quit trying to convince everyone, including yourself, you're not."

"Shut up," he muttered, gazing down at the baby in his arms. The child's doll like fingers clutched his thumb making them appear even smaller in comparison. "I know you said we were only staying a short time, but shouldn't we hold them all?"

A warmth blossomed in her chest hearing him say that. The sensation continued to grow until it felt like something burst sending the warmth spreading throughout her body making her extremities tingle. Her vision blurred as tears, happy tears, filled her eyes. She never knew she could feel so much; it was almost too much to bear.

"Don't you have to go to work?" she sniffed, holding back the tears. She did not want him to think he had upset her for some reason by shedding them.

"I've got time," he said keeping his voice low.

Takara stole a glimpse at him. The way he looked at the baby made the first tear fall. He looked so peaceful, content, and happy. The persistent angry expression in his eyes had been replaced by an affectionate softness. The corners of mouth turned upwards ever so slightly in a gentle smile. The smile on her lips grew in response to his.

"Then I think that's a wonderful idea then. We should hold them all," she agreed.

Three hours later, they left the hospital, sore from sitting so long but pleased after all six preemies had been showered with affection. Katsuki did not speak a single word to her until they returned to the apartment.

Takara did not mind the silence. It created a rather comfortable bubble around the two of them making words unnecessary. Being together, staying close and sharing the physical contact required on the way home was enough.

At the apartment building, Katsuki dropped her off at the bottom of the stairwell to their apartments.

"Go on up while I put away the bike," he said.

"My apartment or yours?" she asked before ascending the stairs.

"Mine. Are you hungry? There are leftovers from last night that can be heated up," he reminded her.

"Oooh, I definitely want some of that delicious curry. I'll get the food ready while you put up the motorcycle," she said, running up the stairs.

By the time Katsuki walked in to the apartment, Takara had the food warmed and plated and tall glasses of cold tea poured. He joined her at the counter to eat.

"Are you angry about today?" she asked, shoveling in a spoonful of food. She seemed to feel even hungrier after her first bite.

"No. Why would I be?" he inquired in return around a mouth full of food.

"I don't know. I just...I just know it's not your kind of thing."

"It could become my thing."

"Really?" she squeaked, shocked by his admission.

"I suppose I could learn a few things from you too. You're not like any woman I've ever met before. I've known some really good and interesting women but none of them ever..." He paused, trying to find the correct word to express his feeling. "I don't know. None of them ever made me _feel _like you do."

Katsuki sounded a little bit upset, aggravated by his admission. Takara held her breath as her stomach tumbled over and over. Everything inside of her seemed to quiver in uncertainty.

"Is that a good thing?" she asked tentatively, a little afraid of the honest answer.

"The only person who ever made me feel so much shit I didn't want to feel is Izuku. He irritated the hell out of me because he was the only person I felt like I could never measure up to...like he would always be better than me no matter how hard I tried," he said. "And he didn't even have a damn natural quirk! What the hell was I jealous of?"

Takara remained silent recalling the things Izuku had spoken to her about Katsuki. He had expressed pretty much the same sentiment about him. He said he was always running after him, wanting to be like him - no matter how much Katsuki teased him and made fun of him. Then All Might came into his life and helped him make his dream to be a hero into a reality.

"Izuku made me want to be a better hero and a better person. You make me want to be a better man and lover...and a father," he added.

Takara nearly choked on her food. She forced it down with a huge bubble of air despite how much it hurt to keep from choking on it. Pounding her chest to send it on its way, she pushed it down further by draining her glass of tea.

"I never wanted to be a boyfriend or husband and certainly not a Dad," Katsuki went on.

"Husband?" she squeaked, reaching across the counter for the pitcher of tea to refill her glass.

"You heard me, dammit," he growled at her irritably.

"I did hear you. Loud and clear," she murmured, sipping her tea.

Putting down the empty glass, Takara stood up beside him, laying her hand on his shoulder. His skin was warm and soft under her palm. He had a warm and soft heart hidden under layers and layers of bullshit and bravado to protect himself.

"Huh?" Katsuki grunted, turning to look at her. "What - "

She cut off his words by pressing her lips against his. She did not want him to say another word and ruin the moment. When he exhaled, leaning into her and pushing his mouth back against hers, her arms circled his neck.

The kiss was slow, gentle, and lingering. His hands made their way to her shirt, quickly and deftly undoing the buttons as their lips parted and met many times.

Those hands, large and powerful, capable of so much kindness could also be used as weapons to bring a villain into subjugation. His fingers slid along her collar bones and under her shirt to push it down her arms. One of his hands covered her breast, massaging until she moaned into his mouth.

Katsuki stood up as his other hand moved under behind, cupping her butt cheek and pulling her up to carry her to his bedroom while he kept his mouth on hers. He kicked the door closed behind them after entering, slamming it shut with a bang. Laying her back on his bed, he straightened his body wedged firmly between her legs.

"Are you ready?" he asked her, his voice raspy with desire.

"Uh huh," she replied barely able to speak.

Katsuki stripped off his tank top and jeans, keeping on his black boxer briefs. He peeled her jeans from her legs as she removed her bra. Laying his body on top of hers, he began to kiss her.

Her hands roamed over his back, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles. Takara could feel him reaching for something between the bed and wall above her head, his body rubbing along the length of hers as he stretched to grab whatever he was looking for.

Katsuki raised his body onto all fours, hovering above her. He hand glided down her arm, his fingers enclosing her wrist. Lifting her arm above her head, he smiled down at her. That smile on his face, a crooked arrogant smirk, made her abdomen clench tightly.

"What are you - "

The metallic click interrupted her. Twisting around to look above her head, she saw he had placed a handcuff around her wrist. He put the other handcuff on her before she could pull her wrist away. Pulling on the restraints, she realized the chain leading from the cuff was attached to something under the bed.

"What the hell? Are you kidding me?!" she shrilled in disbelief, glaring at him and jerking on the chain until it rattled.

"I warned you. Things are going to be different with me," he said, securing her other wrist as well.

"Bakugo!" Takara yelled, pulling on the chains and wiggling her body under him.

"Ah, just settle down. You know I won't hurt you," he told her, cupping her jaw with his hand. His thumb stroked across her cheek, and her struggling stopped. "You trust me, don't you?"

"I do," she replied, her eyes holding his that harbored a hint of hurt that stung her heart.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, stroking her cheek. "But this is what I like."

"Don't apologize. It's just...surprising...that's all. I've never..." Her cheeks grew hot with embarrassment and she looked away from him. "I've never done anything like this."

"I'll teach you," he said, kissing her neck. "I won't go any further than the cuffs this time. Okay?"

"Okay." Takara inhaled deeply in an effort to calm her wildly fluttering heart.

"I'm afraid we'll have to wait until later to play around more too. I also told you I would fuck you hard and fast didn't I?" he questioned her, tracing her lips with his forefinger.

"You did," she answered.

Her whole body trembled when got off the bed and stood up between her legs. She kept her eyes on his face while he took off her panties then removed his own underwear. Suddenly she felt shy, awkward as if this was her first time ever having sex.

His broad chest expanded to become even wider with each deep breath as he stood between her legs, his hips keeping her thighs separated. His eyes, hard and glittering like rubies, traveled over her entire body taking in the sight of her but his hands never touched her.

At the moment, he intimidated her, overwhelmed her. But then again, she assumed that was the whole point of this kind of sex game.

Takara inadvertently yelped when his hands grasped her hips, lifting her behind from the bed. She bit her lower lip as he entered her, pulling her onto him while he continued to stand at the side of the bed while she lay across the short width. She had no choice but to wrap her legs around his waist to keep them from dangling lifelessly off of the edge.

True to his word, he held her hips, his fingers digging into her skin as he pounded her mercilessly. Once she got over the initial shock, she actually began to enjoy the roughness, the vigorous thrusts that rocked her entire body. Katsuki pushed her across the bed and pulled her back to impale her again and again.

An intense pressure began to build deep inside of her. It was like every push increased that pressure, filling her. Takara whimpered and bit her lower lip, holding back the moan.

"Open your mouth. Make noise. Let me know how it feels," he panted, pushing harder and faster.

Takara squeezed her eyes shut, and her mouth dropped open. She loosed a low, extended howl which elicited a grunt from him in return as he increased his efforts.

Warm, wet droplets of his sweat dripped onto her belly. Katsuki lowered her onto the bed, bracing his knee on the mattress between her legs to give himself the leverage he needed to thrust into her harder.

She cried out, pulling at the chains, wishing she could touch him. Opening her eyes, she watched the varying expressions flitting across his face. He looked pained with his eyebrows drawing together as he bared his gritted teeth. Then his face relaxed, his eyebrows lifting and his mouth dropping open for him to release a moan of pleasure. He became even more sexy and enticing in the throes of passion.

His eyes opened a crack to meet hers briefly before he started convulsing, his hips plunging him into her a little deeper than before. After a few successive bumps to her womb that incited both pleasure and pain simultaneously, she became lost in the agony and ecstasy he set off like an earthquake inside of her.

Katsuki fell forward, laying on top of her and crushing her so that it became difficult to breathe. Hearing her wheezing for air, he pushed himself to relieve the lung compressing force of his body on her chest. His hand moved to something above her head. Soon she was free from the restraints.

Takara grabbed his face between her hands, bringing his lips to hers for a sweet kiss.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

"I'm fine. It's fine," she assured him. "It was...different."

"I'm going to take a shower," Katsuki announced, standing up. As he walked away, he added, "I should get ready for work, and Izuku will be home soon."

Takara lay there, staring at the ceiling. _Different. _Things were so different with him. He was right. They would each love her in completely different ways because they are completely different men.

Katsuki was already giving her more than he thought himself capable of giving as far as love goes. She had no right to be greedy or demanding. He had no illusions about himself and how far he could go in certain areas, therefore, she should not either. She would have to meet him where he currently stood and love him as that person with no further expectations.

"Hey," he called to her from the door.

Takara sat up to look at him. "What's up? I thought you were in the shower."

"Come take a shower with me," he said in away that made it sound like an order rather than a request. But that is just his way.

Takara smiled at him, moving off of the bed to go to him. Her heart found its wings when he took her hand and led her to the bathroom for their shower. He definitely had a talent for catching her off guard and doing something she did not expect.

His warning from earlier flitted through her brain. "_I'm the one who will give you fun and excitement and always surprise you. I'm a little bit dangerous and very unpredictable." _

He could not be more correct. Her smile broadened as she looked at the back of man grasping her hand tightly - possessive and protective. She loved the way he loved her.


	9. We're Okay

Author's note: Hello, All! Welcome to the update. I will admit this chapter does seem a little bit filler-ish. However, as always, there is a method to my madness which is to show a tender moment between her and Izuku as well as the making up after the conflict between her and Katsuki (yes, gentle reader that involves sex in case you are wondering). Actually, I have a very good reason for using sex as as part of their making up process which is mentioned in their discussion. This chapter also serves to further the story and their relationships. So read on gentle reader and I do hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much!

* * *

When Izuku let himself into her apartment, the whole place was dark. The television was on illuminating her figure lying on the couch. At first he thought she was unconscious from fainting because she was on her belly with her arm and leg hanging onto the floor.

"Oh, my god," he gasped rushing to her in a panic.

The blood pounded in his ears blocking out the sound of the black and white movie on the television. Good God! She looked dead! Her eyes were wide open and staring blindly at the TV. She blinked when he came to stand between her and the screen letting him know she was in fact alive - and semi all right. He exhaled a loud sigh of relief.

"You scared the hell out of me. What's wrong?" he asked, kneeling beside the couch in front of her.

Takara's eyes shifted and focused on his face. "I'm sorry. I've been on an emotional roller coaster ride all day today. It was exhausting."

"What happened?"

Izuku stood up as she sat up to make room for him to sit beside her. He put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side as she told him about the day she spent with Bakugo and his emotions that were all over the place.

"He's just freaked out. That's all," Izuku assured her, hugging her tightly. "Give him time. As he grows more accustomed to our relationship his emotions will level out. He's pretty much always ran hot and cold. Mostly hot." He chuckled lightly, embracing her again. "There's no doubt in my mind he loves you which is why he's losing his mind on occasion. Everything will be fine."

"Okay. If you say so," she said, pressing her face into the soft folds of his t-shirt across his chest.

"I do say so," he confirmed, burying his face into her silky hair and inhaling the scent of her lavender and vanilla shampoo. After placing a kiss on the top of her head, he asked her, "What do you want for dinner? I'll cook."

"There's some leftover rice and vegetables. We can make omurice. Good comfort food," she said, raising her head to look at him.

"That sounds great," he rejoined, placing a little kiss on her cheek when he leaned forward to stand up. "Omurice it is."

"I'll help," she offered, following him to the kitchen.

Without even saying a word to each other, they set about doing their part to get dinner ready. Izuku pulled out the pans, and Takara took the ingredients out of the refrigerator. As he chopped an onion she prepared the rest of the vegetables to go into the fried rice.

"We make a good team, don't we?" he inquired, casting her a flirtatious sidelong glance as she dumped the cold rice into the hot pan with the melted butter.

"We do," she agreed, color flooding her cheeks as she looked at him. Rising up on her tiptoes, she chastely kissed his freckled cheek that flushed a brilliant red. Leveling her lips at his ear, she whispered, "I love you, Izuku Midoriya."

"I love you too," he whispered back, causing both of them to break out into giggles at their own silliness.

After dinner they watched the movie from the beginning she had been staring at earlier but not really seeing. It was old black and white romantic melodrama of boy meets girl, boy is emotionally stunted therefore boy loses girl. Not really the best storyline for their current situation. She cried at the end. t was a good cathartic cry so Izuku patiently held her, stroking her back, as long as the tears flowed without saying a word.

Afterwards, they washed the dishes and went to bed. Takara lay with Izuku's head on her chest stroking his fluffy hair that was as soft as the down on a baby goose. As much as she wanted to sink into the blissfulness of sleep, tranquil repose eluded her. Picking up her phone to check the time, she saw she had a text message from Katsuki.

_Bakugo: I'm sorry. _

Takara smiled as her heart warmed. She doubted apologizing was something he hardly ever did, and when he did apologize he meant it from the bottom of his heart.

_Takara: There's nothing to apologize for._

She lay the phone down on the bed, wrapping her arms around Izuku's shoulders. A few minutes later her phone vibrated making her jump as it buzzed and slid across the sheets.

_Bakugo: Since you're awake, can we talk when I get home? I'll be there soon._

_Takara: I'll be waiting in your apartment._

Izuku moaned and stirred, his big hands gripping her waist to hold onto her when she moved under him.

"Is everything okay?" he murmured sleepily.

His downy hair tickled her chest as he moved his head before lifting it.

"Yeah. Everything is fine," she whispered to him.

"Can't sleep?" He rolled to the side to lay beside her.

"No," she replied, smiling at his drowsy half closed eyes and the creases on his cheek where it had pressed into her t-shirt. "I'm going next door to wait for Katsuki. We're going to talk a little bit."

"Good," he yawned, patting her behind as she rolled to get off the bed. "You two should talk."

"Go back to sleep," she urged him, kissing his cheek.

"Good night," he mumbled, drifting back into dreamland.

"Good night, Sleeping Beauty," she chuckled, ruffling his hair.

Although wearing a t-shirt and sleep shorts, a fairly modest set of pajamas, Takara pulled on her robe to cover up since she would be walking next door. Once in the apartment, she went to the refrigerator for a bottle of water and shrugged of the robe to drape it across a bar stool. While waiting, to occupy her mind and body, she made tea and small dessert tray for them to share upon his arrival.

The beeping of his code being punched in signaled his arrival as she sat the tea cups down on the counter. Katsuki entered, his boots thumping heavily on the floor along with one loud "whoomp" as he dropped his duffel bag in the foyer.

"Honey, I'm home," he called appearing around the corner from the short foyer hallway.

Takara's heart felt surprisingly light at the sound of his voice. When she turned to look at him, her breath caught in her throat when his eyes immediately locked with hers.

"Hi," she gasped, the corners of her mouth lifting into a wide smile.

"Hey," he responded, his eyes lowering from hers to stare at his fingers that twiddled nervously. "So...I, uhm...I was thinking about things and..."

Her belly tightened with apprehension. Her lips quivered under the smile when his eyes returned to hers.

"I want you to meet my parents," he blurted gruffly.

Her knees instantly turned to jelly almost sending her straight to the floor. Reaching out blindly in front of her, she found the counter so she could lean upon it.

"Meet your parents?" she questioned him, her smile faltering then disappearing. "But don't you think - "

"No, I don't think it's too soon," he interrupted her. "I love you, dammit, and it's important to me that they meet the woman I love."

"O-okay," she stammered, sitting down on the bar stool.

"I mean, if you want to meet them. Is that all right with you?" he asked, sounding far less demanding and a bit apologetic.

"Of course. I just didn't..." She paused to catch her breath. It felt like her lungs were being squeezed, and she could not inhale to get a good breath. "I just didn't expect this so soon."

"Honestly, neither did I," he admitted, moving to stand beside her. "Like I said, I was thinking about things...and I realized how I really feel about you. And it scared the hell out of me."

"Oh," she murmured, fiddling with the empty tea cup.

"I also realized I can't lose you," he said, placing his hands over her fidgeting fingers. Pulling her hands away from the cup, he held her hands in his.

"I feel the same way, Katsuki," she confessed, staring his hands that held hers. She smiled as his thumbs stroked the backs of her hands. "That's why you scared me so much yesterday. I thought you might end things between us. I felt like you were pushing me away and you didn't want this relationship...or me anymore."

"Look at me, Mi Cara," he requested, placing his finger under her chin to lift her head.

Takara raised her head, tilting her chin up so she could make eye contact with him. When his fingers glided over her cheek and his hand cupped her jaw, tears sprang to her eyes from the gesture of loving tenderness. This man bewildered her and infuriated her. He could be so mean and then so loving. She had already made up her mind to love him, love all of him, including his idiosyncrasies, his doubts, his fears, his anger, and his sweetness.

"It was quite the opposite." He inhaled a shaky breath, sliding his thumb across her cheek. "When I saw you holding that baby, I knew then I wanted you to be a permanent part of my life. You were so loving and sweet. I knew had nothing to fear. I want you...and a family."

_So this must be why he was acting so weird. He was thinking about jumping in with both feet and getting serious. That explains a lot_, she thought. Her weak knees trembled, and she would swear she could hear them knocking together. Or maybe that was just the unsteady galloping of her heart. She could not be sure.

"I love you," Katsuki said, his eyes focused on hers as if to push his genuine intent clear through to her brain to make her understand with her mind as well as her heart.

"I love you, too, Katsuki," she returned, meaning every word with all of her heart and soul. She closed her eyes as he leaned down to her to kiss her lips to reinforce his emotions. "You're sure we're ready to take this step? Meeting your parents is a big deal, and I don't take it lightly."

"I'm sure," he confirmed confidently, squeezing her hand that he still held in his. "I'm not taking this lightly either. I've decided if I'm going to be in this relationship, I'm going to throw all fears, all doubts away and love you like I'll never get hurt."

"I will never ever intentionally hurt you. I will make mistakes and screw up and and and," she stammered, "and say things we might both regret but I will always, _always_, love you."

Bakugo laughed. He threw back his head and laughed heartily almost like a villain. Her face crumpled and tears welled in her eyes.

"Katsuki, why..." she whimpered, mystified by his bizarre reaction.

"Oh, Mi Cara," he murmured, wrapping his arms around her shoulders to embrace her before she began crying in earnest. "You stole my line. I should have been the one saying all of those things, not you. Forgive me for laughing. You never cease to surprise me."

"Yeah, right back at you," she sniffed, a nervous chuckle of relief bubbling up her throat. Her arms went around his waist, hugging him back.

"We're good? Everything is okay?" he asked her, stroking her back to comfort her and as a gesture of apology.

"Yeah. Everything is okay," she replied, wiping her tears on his shirt.

"Are you wiping snot on me?" he asked but didn't back away from her.

"Yes, I am," she said meanly although she really wasn't.

"Ew, gross!" he muttered, pushing her away.

Takara grabbed the hem of his shirt and brought it to her face, pretending to blow her nose with an exaggerated trumpeting noise made by her mouth.

"Ugh, you're so nasty," he groaned, playfully slapping at her hands.

"It's your fault for making me cry!" she whined in a high pitched voice to tease and annoy him.

As quickly as it began, their little bout of joking was over. The smile dropped from his face and he grew quite serious as he stepped closer to her and put his arms around her waist to drag her out of the chair and onto her feet. He held her close, hugging her.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, resting his chin on her head.

"Stop that," she fussed at him, slapping him on the back. "Quit doing stupid shit you have to apologize for. It's a simple concept really, Bakugo."

"I'll do my best," he assured her, kissing the top of her head.

"Now," Takara said, reluctantly pushing him away. "Our tea is getting cold."

"Tea?"

Now it was Bakugo's turn to be confused. She interrupted their little love fest for tea?

"Yes, tea," she confirmed, pouring it into their waiting cups. "There's also dessert. Cookies, cake, cheesecake, fruit...whatever you want. Take your pick. You go first."

"You," he said, taking her hand and pulling her back to him.

"What?" she giggled when he kissed her neck.

"I want you for dessert," he said, putting his hands around her waist and lifting her up to sit her on the counter.

"Bakugo, I don't think this is appropriate!" she exclaimed, pushing his hands away as they wedged in between her thighs.

"Are you really still upset with me?" he questioned her since she called him Bakugo.

"A little," she confessed.

"You won't be for long," he promised her, placing his lips on her thigh.

She placed her hands on his shoulders, pushing him back. "Bakugo, I don't think - "

"Then dammit don't!" he exclaimed impatiently, standing up straight to come eye to eye with her. "Don't think, Takara. You think too fucking much. Sometimes things can be taken care of without thinking and talking and all of that annoying shit. Sometimes it's okay just to feel."

Katsuki placed his hand on the side of her neck feeling her racing pulse against his palm. His hand glided down her neck to her chest where his fingers did the walking, tracing the V-neck of her t-shirt.

"Sometimes it's better to just feel things," he murmured, his fingers brushing over the top of her shirt across her breast.

Takara inhaled sharply, her nipple drawing to a stiff peak from the proximity of his fingers even it was separated from her skin by the cloth of her t-shirt.

"There are times when emotions can be better expressed through physical means rather than words," Katsuki said, his voice low and deep giving it an almost hypnotic quality.

"Actions speak louder than words?" she ventured, biting her lower lip when his fingers slipped under the edge of her t-shirt.

"That's exactly what I mean," he affirmed.

Takara placed her hands on his cheek pulling his head up before he could place his lips on her thigh again. She tilted his head back to make him look at her.

"Katsuki."

"Hmmm?" He blinked slowly as his eyes held hers for what felt like several long minutes rather than a few seconds.

"Will you just hold me?" she requested.

Her belly shuddered as he continued to gaze at her lengthening the tense silence between them. She expected him to laugh at her again, but he did not. Instead, a small smile turned up the corners of his mouth.

"If that's what you need, I will do that for you," he said, taking her into his arms to not only hug her but pull her down from the counter.

Takara relaxed, leaning into him. Pressing her cheek against his pec, the muscle flexed under her cheek making her giggle. A sigh of contentment passed her lips when his arms tightened around her keeping a firm hold on her as she nestled into his chest. She attempted to stifle her yawn before he could hear it, but she could not.

"Have you slept at all?" Katsuki asked.

"No," she answered truthfully.

"Nervous about tonight?"

"No. I look forward to charity performances. We get to relax and have fun. We interact with the crowd and get everyone involved. It's like a huge party."

"So I kept you awake, huh?" He cradled the back of her head with his hand to keep her close in case she decided to pull away.

"It doesn't matter. I'm just glad we're okay." Her fingers curled into his t-shirt hanging on to fistfuls of the material at his waist.

"Why don't you go lay down on the bed?" he suggested, hesitantly withdrawing his arms from her. She could not go if he was hanging on to her.

"But what about - " she began glancing at the food and tea on the counter.

"I'll take care of all this in here and join you soon. Go," he ordered her gently, sending her off with a kiss on the forehead and a pat on the bottom.

"Am I five?" she muttered, covering her mouth to hide another yawn as she toddled off down the hall.

Snatching back the covers, Takara slid in between the cool black sheets that were silky soft and smelled like lavender. Her favorite scent in the world. She inhaled deeply and snuggled into the pillow to wait for him.

A few minutes later she saw the lights go off in the kitchen. She could not hear his stocking feet on the floor, but she knew he was on his way to her. The ensuing giddiness warded off the drowsiness that had almost dragged her down into sleep.

In the dark, she could not see him. His steps were so light she could not hear him either. The metallic hiss of his zipper lowering made her abdomen tighten. He was getting undressed. There was a light swish of fabric afterward as he removed the pants and his shirt. The bed shifted under his weight when he sat down, and she lifted the covers for him to join her underneath.

Katsuki's arm draped over her waist as he lay on his side facing her, pressing the front of his body to hers.

"Your clothes are still on," he remarked in surprise and disappointment.

"Uh, yeah," she said, her hand resting on his hip and making skin to skin contact. "And yours are not. None of them."

"I sleep naked when there's not three of us," he informed her.

She could hear the smile in his voice. Apparently her reaction amused him. He really did enjoy pressing all kinds of buttons.

"Why don't you get naked with me?" he suggested, pulling at her shirt to help her start undressing.

"If I do, we won't be getting to sleep any time soon." She assisted him with removing her shirt by doing a half sit up so he could jerk the shirt over her head off her arms.

"Don't worry. This won't take long," he assured her, tugging at the waistband of her sleep shorts.

She giggled, lifting her hips. "Didn't you just insult yourself?"

"It's quality, not quantity. Five minutes of great sex with a fantastic orgasm is better than thirty minutes of an unsatisfying tease don't you think?" he questioned her, sitting up to drag her bottoms down her legs.

"Are you saying I was teasing you earlier?" she inquired indignantly. She pressed her hands against his shoulders, shoving him back on the bed and straddling his waist.

"I'm not saying that at all. I am the type of guy who is accustomed to working out my problems and my emotions using a physical means," he explained, enclosing her waist with his hands to lift her and better position himself under her.

"You're one of those guys who when he and his friend have a disagreement they like to beat the crap out of each other, shake hands, and go have a beer and they're back to being best buddies. Is that right?" she asked, hovering above him in a kneeling position over his hips.

"Exactly. And since you're not a guy and more than a friend," he said, pausing as he raised his hips to push up inside of her. "There's a much more pleasurable means to resolve our issues and strengthen our emotional bond."

"Oh!" she cried out as she lowered her body onto him completely. "I think I might like this type of conflict resolution. Especially..." She seized his wrists, lifting his arms, and pinning them to the pillow above his head. "...when you're taking the submissive role for once in your life."

"I think I might like it too," he admitted, breathing heavily as she swayed her hips.

A surge of excitement ran through her body as she moved on top of him, keeping his hands and arms restrained. Takara had no illusions about the fact he could easily overpower her. At any time he could break free of her grip to turn her over on her back to take charge of the situation. But he didn't. Instead, he willingly gave up control, allowing her to be the one in charge.

Katsuki closed his eyes concentrating on every shaky breath and each moan that passed her lips. Giving up control to her was not as difficult as he thought it would be. Giving up the lead was actually quite freeing, permitting him to focus more on the little nuances of sex. Every little sound of pleasure she made. Every delightful sensation she sent rushing through his body with each movement of hers. The warmth and smoothness of her thighs against his hips. The way she gripped him with her thighs on each upward movement of her hips. Her fingers gripped his wrists more tightly on her way back down.

For this woman he had given up more of himself than he ever had to anyone. Takara understood that and took none of his sacrifices for granted. He had placed his heart in gentle hands where it would be held dear and treated with utmost care. He would be loved wholeheartedly in return.

At last he could no longer withhold, Katsuki opened his mouth, sighing her name as she pushed him over that blissful edge. He pulled his wrists free from her hands, holding her hips and pushing up into her to take her with him so he would not fall alone.

Takara cried out, leaning forward to press her forehead to his as successive surges of ecstasy like electricity rocketed through her body and jolted her nerves.

"Do you feel better now?" she panted, rubbing the tip of her nose across his affectionately. "Crisis averted? Issue resolved?"

"Yeah. We're good. We're okay," he said, giving her a quick peck on the lips.

"Awesome."

Takara lay beside him, and he turned into her pulling her close. With her head tucked under his chin and one of his arms hooked over her waist, sleep came quickly to both of them.


	10. A Little More in Love

At some point during their sleep, Katsuki spread out stretching his limbs out to all four corners of the bed. Takara woke up curled into a little ball confined in the limited area created between one of his arms and legs. Thankfully her back was to the wall or she would have been on the floor.

Carefully stretching out one leg over his middle, she raised up on one arm to a half sitting position. Putting her knee down by his hip, she prepared to straddle him briefly then push off the bed to slip away without waking him. Hovering over him, she studied his face in the rays of sun that managed to sneak around the edges of the curtain to shed minimal but useful light into the room.

Katsuki looked so innocent and much younger with his face relaxed in sleep. She wondered if this is what he looked like in high school. Hopefully his mother would bring out the pictures during their visit. She would love to see him as a baby, a terrible two, an angsty teenager, and burgeoning hero.

_What would the people who gave life to this beautiful man be like?, _she wondered, her fingers drifting across his sleep flushed cheek. Her belly started turning flips at the thought of meeting his parents.

Unable to resist the temptation of his lips poked out in a pout, Takara pressed the gentlest of kisses to his soft lips. She sat up quickly, biting her lower lip when she heard him inhale sharply. Pushing herself off the side of the bed, she leaned back over him.

"Go back to sleep," she whispered, kissing him a second time before she could resist the temptation.

"Okay," he mumbled, rolling away from her onto his side while stuffing the pillow under his head as he changed position.

Takara giggled and shook her head. She was not surprised he decided to stay in bed with no arguments. He was up way past his bedtime last night. Night shifts were definitely not his favorite but all professional heroes had to work them sometimes. People always needed help for one reason or another no matter the time of day. Unfortunately criminals preferred to pick inconvenient times and the cover of darkness during which to conduct most of their wicked deeds.

After taking a quick shower, she went into Izuku's bedroom to raid his closet for a shirt so she could traverse the short distance between their apartments without being too obscene. She chose what looked like a blue football jersey with the numbers zero one on it in white and outlined in red. Two yellow projections poked out of the top of the zero like All Might's signature hairdo. She laughed. Izuku had some of the funniest fan merchandise dedicated to his personal hero and mentor.

Upon entering her apartment, Takara could smell the positively luscious scent of coffee. When she saw Izuku sitting on the couch reading, she took a moment to take him in since he was totally engrossed in his book.

Concentrating on the words, his eyebrows drawn together and his mouth set in a hard line, he no longer looked baby faced despite his freckles. Sensing her staring at him, he glanced up. His lips stretched into such a wide grin they separated and revealed his perfect hero smile. But this smile was meant just for her - her lover's smile.

"Hi," Takara said, her voice squeaking as if she had inhaled helium. How could she not be high on happiness after seeing that smile?

"Good morning," he returned, closing his book and laying it on the seat of the couch as he stood up.

Takara trembled in anticipation of his embrace as he walked toward her to envelope her with his brawny arms bearing the scars of his dedication and proof of his sacrifice to become the hero he always dreamed of becoming. She glided her hands along his rock hard arms, over his shoulders, and around his back to take in as much of his strength and warmth as she could. Melting into him, she pressed her cheek against his neck and the length of her body against his. She adored the full body hugs full of warm fuzzy emotion she shared with him.

"If you keep stealing my clothes I won't have anything left to wear," he murmured with his lips close to her ear.

A delicious little thrill streaked down her spine like an electrical charge that hit her lower back and spread out through her entire body leaving her with tingling fingers and toes.

"You know where to find them," she returned, running her fingers through his short hair. She particularly liked the texture of the super soft hair cut right down his skull on the back of his head.

"I think this shirt looks better on you than it does me," he complimented her, kissing her forehead.

"Mmmm, I doubt that," she chuckled.

The shirt was so loose it drooped to the side baring one of her shoulders and almost hung down her knees. With a belt she might have been able to wear the oversized jersey as a baggy and less than fashionable dress.

"I was wondering when you would make it back it me."

_I'll always come back to the place where my heart is hidden safe and sound_, she thought, grasping his face between her palms to kiss him square on the mouth. Although she doubted he would laugh at her or think her silly for such sentimentality like Katsuki would, she kept the words to herself.

Katsuki's words came back to her, ringing in her ears and bouncing around in her brain as if he had spoken them in her ear again. _"He will be your rock...the dependable one...the man who will always be there for you no matter what." _

But she knew the perpetually grumpy and crusty Katsuki loved her dearly just like she did him. It amazed her how she could love two men so fiercely and so differently according to their personality and in accordance of their style of loving her in return.

"I made coffee," Izuku announced, taking her by the hand to pull her to the kitchen. As he poured the fabulous bean juice into her mug with a handle shaped like a butterfly's wing, he said, "So I'm guessing you two worked things out?"

"Yeah," she replied, her face heating with a self-conscious blush.

Izuku had no illusions of what happened between them last night. He knew they would "kiss and make up" and then some even before she left him. It was part of their relationship after all. As long as she sincerely loved both of them, who cares if she shows it? After pouring cream into her coffee until it turned beige, just the way she liked it, he handed her the cup across the counter while she took a seat on a bar stool.

"I told you everything would be fine," he said, pouring himself a cup as well. "Still going to meet his parents tomorrow?"

"Y-yeah," she stammered, feeling her face grow exponentially hotter.

Taking a sip of her coffee, Takara nearly choked on it when she realized she had not told him about meeting Katsuki's parents. She had just found out his plan last night during their discussion.

"How did you know about that?" Her eyes narrowed with suspicion when his face suddenly grew as red as his hoodie he was wearing which he had reclaimed from her.

"Oops," he muttered into his cup, slurping noisily.

"Oops? What oops?"

Izuku leaned against the counter, exhaling noisily. Staring into his dark green mug he held with both hands enabled him to avoid looking into her eyes which settled on his cute and flushed face with a dubious glare.

"Bakugo talked to me about the possibility of asking you meet his parents. He was nervous and didn't want to ask. He wondered what I thought you would say. If you would say no or be angry with him."

"To be so mean, he's awfully sensitive isn't he?" she mumbled thoughtfully into her cup.

"Uh huh," he murmured in agreement.

They both knew his constant bitching and complaining coupled with insults boiled down to nothing more than a defense mechanism.

"That explains why you were so calm and understanding about his freak out yesterday. Here I thought you were being emotionally intuitive but you two had already talked about it."

"Look," Izuku said, pushing off the counter to go to her. He set the mug down on the counter and took both of her hands between his, making eye contact with her. His voice sounded deeper, more commanding and self-assured when he spoke his next words. "Don't be angry with him. Or me for that matter. He just wants to do everything right. He wants this relationship to work...for all of us. Since his decision actually affects me too it makes since we would talk about it."

"You're right," she sighed, seeing his well made point and feeling a bit embarrassed by her irritation over the matter.

"We're all still trying to figure out what the hell we're doing here. None of us want to take any missteps. We want make this relationship solid and long lasting."

"I understand," she mumbling, lowering her lids to shield her eyes filled with shame from him.

She had no right to be angry with either of them. Like he said, they were doing their best to navigate uncharted territory. If anything, she should be thrilled he talked to Izuku about the serious matter. It was important to inform him of how Katsuki planned to progress the relationship, taking it a big step into a committed direction. He was a part of their relationship after all.

"When will I get to meet your Mom?" she asked, her eyes meeting his forest green irises.

"Well, I really...I-I don't know," he answered truthfully, his voice back to its normal soft spoken quality. "Honestly, I haven't even considered it."

"Oh," she gasped, lowering her eyes to her coffee cup before raising it to take a sip to wet her dry throat.

"Please, don't be offended. I'm just not...I'm just not ready for that yet."

_WOW! Didn't see that coming!, _her annoying inner voice screamed. Takara felt like she had been punched in the gut.

Those vibrant green eyes drooped at the outer corners along with downturned mouth. He had not meant to hurt her, but he wanted to be completely truthful. He ran his fingers through her hair making her feel like a pet, giving her a really sad smile that made her feel stupid and childish.

Once again, she had jumped to a conclusion she should not have. Just because Katsuki was ready to take a giant step did not mean Izuku had to make the same step.

"I'm sorry," she apologized.

"For what?" he asked, squeezing her hands as if to comfort her when her hurt filled eyes slid away from his.

"I didn't mean to automatically assume you would..." Her words drifted away as humiliation, and a fair amount of disappointment truth be told, saturated her. It was like a fist had been crammed down her throat and was choking her.

"You've got to understand, I am very protective of my Mom. She's the only one I've ever had. I never knew my dad. And she was the one from the beginning who believed in me no matter what. I can't and won't take the chance of hurting or disappointing her for any reason," he said, stroking his thumbs across the backs of her hands.

Izuku ceased speaking, taking a seat on the stool beside her while keeping a secure hold on her hands as if he never wanted to let her go. That in itself offered solace to her.

"Look at me, Takara," he entreated her, waiting until her eyes returned to his to say his next words. "I just don't think - no, I _know_ she would not understand our relationship. I'm not ready to try to explain it to her yet. I can't take the chance of hurting her if she doesn't understand. I'm sorry."

Takara understood his decision truly is about preserving his mom's emotions and had nothing to do with how he felt about her. She smiled at him, extracting one of her hands from between his. She pressed her palm to his jaw when she saw the tears swimming in his eyes. He is so sweet, so loving. Truly always putting the feelings of those he loved above his own.

"Please understand - "

"I do," she cut him off, gliding her thumb over the freckles dotting his hot, crimson colored cheek. "It's fine. I don't know how much Katsuki is going to tell his parents. I can see that you tell your mother everything, that you would want her to know up front how things are...between all of us. And I think you're right. She wouldn't understand. We're a little confused ourselves."

They both laughed to lessen the tension threatening to throttle the both of them.

"One thing I do know is," Takara began, the smile fading from her lips as she grew more earnest to convey the sincerity of her next words. "I love you and you love me. And that's enough for right now."

"I agree," he said, leaning forward to press his lips to her.

Something about the kiss gave it a bittersweet feel. As honest as Izuku is about his emotions, quick to feel things and feel them deeply, expressing them openly, "wearing them on his sleeve" as the adage goes, there was also a limit to them. He would only go so far, allowing a chosen few to be privy to their brave new world and approach to a relationship built for three.

Takara completely understood his decision not to tell his mother. She had no intention of telling her parents - but for a selfish and far less honorable reason. Her mother would cry and be horribly disappointed, packing the emotional baggage to send her on a guilt trip. Although she would not approve, her mother would tell her with dramatic tears in her eyes, _"Do what you want to do, dear. You're a big girl. It's your life." _And that would be the end of it as she toddles off to pour herself a drink.

Her father, on the other hand would have a far different and much more aggressive reaction. Strict and traditional, the man would absolutely lose his damn mind. However, he would not yell or curse or resort to physical violence.

If he learned of the positively scandalous relationship the best case scenario would be for him to hire a moving company to show up and pack her things. Then he would force her to move to the other side of the world in order to separate her from the two men she loved. Worst case scenario, but still within the scope of very real possibility, would be for him to sic his lawyers on them with big fat checks to pay them to disappear. If they refused the money, a lawsuit would be filed requiring the signing of confidentiality agreements that would entail them cutting off all contact and never even speaking to her again.

Takara sighed wanting to sink through the floor and disappear at the awful possibilities, of the terrible things her father could do to them if he found out she was in love with and actively involved in a relationship with two men. It didn't matter she was a grown ass woman. She was still his property as far as he was concerned. Another accessory to his fabulous life like his numerous houses and cars and watches.

"Takara? Are you all right?" Izuku asked her, drawing her back out of her head.

"I'm fine," she lied. She could feel her lips quivering under her smile and could see by the doubt in his eyes he was not buying her bullshit. "Why?"

"We're never going to meet your parents are we? We're going to have hide our relationship like a dirty little secret," he stated rather than asked.

"Y-yeah. I'm sorry," she apologized.

"I won't say I understand," Izuku said, holding out his open palms inviting her to hold his hands. "But from what I've read about your father...he is not a nice man."

She laughed bitterly; an awful, harsh guffaw to her own ears.

"That's an understatement," she scoffed. "People are a commodity to him. They are disposable products to be used until they have served their purpose then discarded. That goes for his employees as well as his family. You have to enhance and complete his image. Or you don't exist in his world."

"What do you mean?"

"For example, my mom has had so much plastic surgery she doesn't even look like the woman in the pictures standing next to my father on their wedding day. She drinks too much and pops tranquilizers like candy so she can still wear a smile. But the Botox helps."

"Oh, my god," he murmured, his eyebrows drawing together and his top lip curling back from his teeth in disgust. "I'm so sorry."

"I have a confession to make, Izuku," she whispered, leaning toward him. "I never wanted to play the cello. It's the instrument my father chose for me. But I learned to love it...like I learned to love my quirk. I always thought my quirk was stupid and useless. So I continued to play that damn cello. Doing so made my silly quirk useful and good. I found a purpose other than being my father's show pony. I keep doing it because my music and my quirk bring enjoyment and happiness...and healing...to those who experience it."

"Wow," murmured Izuku, his eyes riveted to her face.

"What?" she asked, giggling self-consciously because of the ardent way he stared at her with a toothy grin lighting up his entire handsome face.

Takara had always dreamed of someone looking at her that way - with love and admiration shining through their eyes. That warm expression of sincere devotion made his lively green eyes all the more beautiful.

"You're glowing," he sighed wistfully, pressing the tips of his fingers to her cheek. "Did you know that Kacchan plays the drums?"

"No way," she gasped, genuinely flabbergasted. "You're teasing me?"

"Nope. I swear it's the truth. I can't believe he didn't tell you. Although...I guess I shouldn't really be surprised he hasn't mentioned it to you."

"Does he still play?"

"He used to get together with Momo, Denki, Tokoyami, and Jiro to play just for fun. But after becoming professional heroes, there wasn't much time for that. Getting him to play at the school festival in high school required a massive amount of guilt tripping and possibly a bribe or two. But," he said, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek. "If you asked him to play for you, I'm sure he would. You two make a beautiful duet."

"Oh," she inhaled, her eyelashes lowering to rest on her cheek. "Our trio is working out quite nicely though don't you think?"

"I do," he agreed, kissing her forehead. "So if you could play a different instrument, what would you play?" Izuku questioned her to shift the conversation to a lighter note while still being somewhat on topic.

Takara shrugged. "I don't know. I never had the chance to discover what instrument I really want to play for myself."

"Can you play anything else?"

"Of course. I can play the violin and the piano."

"But not by any choice of your own?"

"Nope."

"Hmmm..." he hummed thoughtfully, letting go of one of her hands so he could prop his chin on his hand. Growing introspective, he began to mumble like he always does when he's working out an excessively trying problem that his head won't contain.

"Hey," Takara said, hopping off her stool and tugging on his arm. "I'm going to get dressed so we can take a walk. I want something that is really fatty, sugar, and bad for me. Let's go to the donut shop."

"Okay. Sounds good to me."

Being a Saturday morning, families and couples jammed the sidewalk on their way to eating, shopping, or playing in the park. Izuku and Takara held hands but did not talk as they were carried along in the slow moving flow of human bodies. They managed to break out of the crowd, stepping right through the open door of the donut shop to take their place at the end of the line not far from the door.

Both of their phones beeped simultaneously. They checked them and laughed. It was a text message from Katsuki asking where the hell they were at.

"You want to answer him?" Izuku asked already sliding his phone back into his pocket.

"Sure. I'll even ask if he wants something," she added, typing the words.

Katsuki responded with: _You know what sweet thing I'd like to eat. It may be in that shop but they don't sell it there. _

Takara was positive she blushed the deepest red she ever had in her life, her face feeling as if it had been ignited and set ablaze.

"What'd he say?" Izuku asked, casting a glimpse at her. Her intense blush warranted a double take and a chuckle from him.

"Uh, he doesn't want anything," she replied.

"Nothing they have here right?" he asked, chortling then clearing his throat.

"Stop it," she snapped, elbowing him in the ribs.

"Next!" the girl behind the glass case called.

Immediately the cute girl's eyes were riveted on Izuku, and Takara became invisible.

"Good morning!" she chirped cheerfully. "What may I get for you, Sir?"

Takara was getting accustomed to fading into oblivion when with one of her hero boyfriends. Honestly, not being the center of attention did not bother her in the least having been on stage for many years. Also the attention showered on them by other women did not bother her, for the most part anyway, because she knew at the end of the day she had the complete attention of two very important men who adored her. And she loved them dearly in return. Sighing and shaking her head, she looked over the delectable choices behind the glass.

"I'll have a cream puff, please," Izuku responded.

_Cream puff huh? You are most certainly NOT what you eat Izuku Midoriya, _she thought to herself as she continued to look over the selection of edible works of art.

Izuku and his beaming smile inspired her to choose a pillowy round doughnut topped with a sunny yellow yuzu flavored glaze, topped with candied pieces of the tart fruit, and filled with a tangy and sweet cream flavored by yuzu as well.

Then she spied something interesting in a back corner of the bottom shelf in case. An almost spherical pastry that resembled an apple covered in a shiny red glaze.

"What is that?" she asked the girl who was busy chatting about eclairs with Izuku.

"Oh, that's something new we're trying. The owner is calling it Forbidden Fruit," she explained pulling one out of the case for Takara to get a better look at it.

At the top of the 'apple' was a brown milk chocolate stem and piece of matcha mochi pressed and formed into the shape of a leaf.

"Forbidden fruit? Like the whole Garden of Eden thing?" Takara inquired, fascinated by the supremely detailed dessert.

"Exactly. It looks sweet and pleasant but it's the dessert that bites back. There's cayenne pepper in the cinnamon apple filling. The glaze is made of spicy cinnamon candy and a pinch of ghost pepper for a little extra kick," the employee said with a grin on her face. "Honestly, I don't they're going to sell very well. Who wants a spicy donut?"

_I know someone who would like it, _she thought. "It's perfect. We'll take one, please."

Takara and Izuku both pulled out their wallets to pay but Izuku insisted he pay for everything.

"I'll buy next time," she offered.

"Deal."

Bakugo's special treat was placed in a box by itself and wrapped up like a present complete with a red ribbon. Takara and Izuku received their pastries in crinkly waxed paper so they could eat them on the way back to the apartment.

Upon entering Takara's apartment, they saw Bakugo perched on a barstool, arms crossed, and looking mad as hell, therefore, he looked normal as always. Takara placed the box on the counter in front of him.

"What the hell is this?" he grumbled, glowering at the box as if something might jump out of it at him.

"It's a pastry called Forbidden Fruit. Give it a try," she prompted him, pulling on one of the tail's of the bow to untie it. She licked her lips while giving him a wink. "You've tasted forbidden fruit before. I think you'll like this too."

"Hmph," Bakugo grunted with a smirk on his face as he opened the box. "I hate sweets."

"That's not what you texted earlier," she reminded him.

Izuku had turned his back to pour them cups of coffee. When he turned around to hand them their cups his face was still so brightly shaded in red it nearly rivaled the color of his hoodie.

Bakugo took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. Suddenly his face began to turn pink.

"Shit, that's spicy," he commented, taking another bite. "Damn...that's pretty good."

"See, you never know what you'll like until you try it," she said, raising her coffee cup as if toasting him.

"God," he groaned, rolling his eyes. "You sound like my mother."

"Good. Hopefully that means we will get along well," she said.

"What should we do now?" Izuku asked, putting his arms around Takara in a backwards hug and giving her a kiss on the top of her head. He propped his chin on top of her head, keeping his arms securely around her body, his arms under breasts supporting them.

Katsuki seemed to have no problem with Izuku's bout of possessiveness and kept eating the donut until it was gone. He sucked the sticky sweet and definitely spicy glaze from his fingers before it could dye them red.

"How about a swim to work off the donuts?" Katsuki suggested, poking her in the belly.

Takara self-consciously sucked in her toned belly.

"You're so mean. But that is a good idea," she agreed with a sigh.

"Let's go."

After swimming several laps, they returned to their respective apartments for a shower before gathering back at Takara's to make lunch together. Gathering up a few leftovers and fresh vegetables, they prepared a spicy cold noodle salad. While doing dishes, Takara yawned several times.

"You should go lie down," Izuku told her, elbowing her out of the way and pulling the dish towel out of her hand to take over drying the dishes. "You need the rest for tonight."

"Thank you," she replied gratefully, kissing his cheek.

Katsuki turned to follow her with the intention of keeping her company and seeing her off to sleep. Izuku grabbed him by the back of neck, his large hand and long, strong fingers easily holding on to his friend's brawny neck.

"Oh, no, not you. You're going to help me finish these dishes," he informed the grumpy man attempting to make a quick getaway.

"Dammit," Katsuki grumbled but turned back to the sink to complete dish duty.

Rather than lying down on the couch, Takara went straight to her room to curl up in bed. Lack of sleep mixed with lots of physical activity had exhausted her. However, if was a good kind of tired if that sort of thing actually existed.

Humming and smiling to herself, she went over the first act of the evening in her head. The performance had gone off without a hitch in rehearsal. She could hardly wait until Izuku and especially Katsuki saw the surprise she had in store for them.

~\\../~

* * *

"Will it be starting soon?" Katsuki asked for the third time, glancing at his watch.

"It's only five after, buddy, calm down," Eijiro said, slapping him on the shoulder.

"Yeah, Bakugo, these things take time and lots of preparation. It's not surprising there might be a small delay," said Uraraka, gathering her shawl around her bare shoulders. She had worn a black off the shoulder formal dress.

Despite the concert supposedly being more casual and laidback, the patrons were not. Everyone was dressed in suits and cocktail dresses as if this was a typical concert. The rich and famous along with many heroes had come to show their support and give their money to a worthy charity. None had sacrificed their fashion sense for comfort to enjoy the six course dinner and hours of entertainment.

Izuku, Bakugo, and almost all of their friends were in attendance, taking up three tables flanking one entire front side of the secondary stage. The people who could not attend sent donations for the Children's Hospital Fund.

Tonight's fund raiser was being held in the open auditorium where the reception had been. Once again, large round tables covered in white table cloths seating ten people at each took up the entire space, and it was a completely packed house. A stage had been constructed in the middle of the room with aisles leading to it from four directions. An incline led up to the stage on the back side with steps on the other three so the performers could gain access to it. There was a second stage against the back wall where chairs and instruments were already placed.

The lights blinked three times signaling the performance would soon begin. Conversations ended abruptly when the lights went out entirely enveloping the room in darkness. The double doors at the front of the auditorium were thrown open to reveal two round lights resembling headlights streaming blinding light into the room.

Attendees in the path of the twin beams squinted and shielded their faces with their hands. Some looked around in confusion while others shifted in their sheets uncomfortably as they wondered what the hell was going on.

The lights inside the room came back up, dim but shedding enough illumination the people could see the beautifully restored burgundy 1932 Ford 18 rolling into the room. The 1932 Ford 18 was a popular car of gangsters and criminals of that era such as the suicidal and homicidal and eventually suicidal couple Bonnie and Clyde.

The car must have been specially designed to be battery operated because it made no noise as it slowly crawled along the wide red carpet. There was absolutely no tell tale smoke from the tail pipe or gasoline smell either. It drove up the incline and parked in the middle of the stage while an awed audience watched in silence.

Notes being banged out on a piano broke the stillness startling many people causing them to jump in their seats and giggle self-consciously. The doors on either side of the car opened and long slim legs covered in black fishnet stockings and wearing bearing black and white wingtip pumps on the feet poked out of each. The women belonging to those legs stepped out wearing what appeared to be nothing more than a double breasted jacket with silver sequined pin stripes and black fedora's with a sparkling matching silver sequined band. Two more women followed dressed the same way, then two men in full gangster suits.

_It's like a fucking clown car. How did they get that many people in there?, _Katsuki wondered. At least two of the women had to be sitting in the laps of those guys.

Nothing could be seen of the women's faces except for their shiny red lips. Each set of women had a man between them, their arms linked through his to be escorted down the steps. At the bottom of the stairs, they swung their hips from side to side, jostling the man between them, before letting go and separating from him.

"Where is she?" Izuku whispered to Katsuki.

"How the hell I would know?" he hissed back. She had not told him a damn thing. "Maybe she's not performing yet."

Bakugo's eyes scanned the two woman dancing near them. His eyes moved from the head down to the feet then back up, ceasing their roaming at the thighs. The woman closest to them had thick, finely muscled thighs revealed right up to her ass cheeks under the short jacket dress.

_Fuck me. _His abdomen clenched tightly. He knew those luscious thighs because they had been pressed against his hips last night, flexing and squeezing as she held him down to make love to him.

"That's her," he said, jerking his chin in her direction. "The one on the right."

"Damn," mumbled Izuku. "Holy fuck she looks great."

Had he not been so mesmerized by her legs he would have done a double take in Izuku's direction since it was not like him to use such foul language. He shared the sentiment.

As if on cue, Takara sidled up to their table, moving in flawless rhythm with the music, her steps mirroring those of her fellow dancers. She pushed back her hat, tilting back her head so they could see her face. She winked at Katsuki and blew a kiss to Izuku. Breaking out of choreographer, she hugged Uraraka and greeted Kirishima with an excited wave and mouthed hi to him. He waved back with a goofy grin on his face.

"You are one lucky man, my friend," Eijiro commented as he observed her sashaying away swinging her hips to the music.

"She can't sing worth a damn, but she sure can dance," Katsuki murmured, keeping his eyes on her.

Like the rest of her fellow dancers, Takara worked her way through the crowd. Each time the word bang was mentioned in the song, she would swing her hips in a wide arc targeted toward someone, mostly men.

One time she was standing between two men at their table, her forearms resting on their shoulders. When the word bang was heard, her hips bumped one man in the shoulder causing him to laugh much to the chagrin of his wife. As her hips swung back in the other direction, she hit the second man who gamely pretended to be shot, grabbing his chest and slumping over slightly. To thank him for his willingness to be such a good sport and improvise to play along, she tipped her hat then bent over to place a kiss on the top of his bald head leaving behind a flawless set of lip prints.

Automatically reacting out of jealousy, Katsuki shot up out of his chair like a rocket to his feet. Before he could move any further, Izuku stood beside him, his hand coming down hard on his overprotective friend's shoulder, pushing him back down into his chair.

"Sit down," he commanded him. When they were back in their seats, he leaned over to say, "That's Mori Miyamoto, CEO of a leading pharmaceutical company who supplies the hospital with medication. I'm sure they're hoping for a big donation either monetarily or with assistance with meds to their patients who can't afford them."

"All right," Katsuki groused, plopping back down into his seat.

Katsuki almost came unglued a second time, ready to whip someone's ass, when one of the male dancers grabbed Takara by the waist to pull her into him. They danced a few steps of an Argentine tango which placed their bodies way too close together for his comfort. Their legs intertwined then released, their bodies turning and gliding in tempo with the music without tangling and tripping each other. With a little hop, they transitioned into a quick step then he spun her away to catch hold of a new partner to continue the dance.

Takara spun like a top until coming to a stop right between Katsuki and Izuku. First she kissed Izuku on the cheek. She meant to do the same to Katsuki, but he turned his mouth toward her, catching her lips. The kiss was hard and he did not pull his lips away. To break the kiss, she stood up quickly, her entire face almost as red at her smudged lipstick. The song was over so she pivoted on her foot to make a quick retreat with the others.

"Oh, my god," Eijiro laughed when she hit Bakugo with her hip almost knocking him out of his chair before flouncing off.

Katsuki could only chuckle with a mischievous smirk on his face as he wipes the lipstick off his lips staining the pristine white napkin.

The musicians who had already taken their places on the front stage began to play as a new group of dancers ran out from behind the curtain to start the second performance and divert the patron's attention as the car was being backed down from the stage in the center of the room.

"They've really gone all out, haven't they?" Uraraka said. "It's really quite remarkable."

Tenya pushed up his glasses before saying, "They understand you have to spend money to make money. This is quite an impressive event. Did you know the musicians themselves have paid for everything and all donations are going to the hospital?"

They did. Takara had told them. She explained that was their part and the least they could do in the fundraiser.

"I've actually spent quite a lot of time at the hospital myself helping out in the rehabilitation wing," Tenya added proudly.

"How is your brother doing?" Izuku asked.

"Much better thank you. He can walk a bit now. It's not very far, and it's with the help of a harness while being suspended between handrails. He is using more of his own strength every day. It's major progress considering they said he would never get out of his bed or wheelchair," he said looking sad but proud all at the same time. "He does get frustrated and quite depressed sometimes though."

"Takara does a lot of volunteering at the Children's section of the hospital. Maybe she could drop by the rehabilitation center and play for them," Katsuki suggested. "She would love to help them."

"That would be great. If it's not too much trouble," Tenya added upon seeing the concerned expression on Izuku's face.

"Kacchan, don't you think you should discuss this with her first?" Izuku asked him. "She's stretched a bit thin as it is."

"Shut up, nerd. You know how she is. She won't turn down an opportunity to help someone especially if all it takes is her music."

"You're right, and that's exactly why you - "

They received several vehement hisses to be quiet from surroundings tables so they ended the conversation before it could turn into an argument.

During the intermission, dinner was served and the musicians came out to eat as well. Takara joined the group with Izuku and Bakugo, sitting between them.

"You were great," Eijiro complimented her.

"Thanks," she replied, blushing lightly with happiness.

"Will you be performing again?" Uraraka asked her.

"I have one more performance. As a matter of fact, I will actually have to cut my time here short. We're the first act after dinner," she said, feeling Katsuki's hand take hers under the table.

"Hey, uh, I kinda volunteered you for something," he confessed.

"What?" she inquired, picking up her water to guzzle it down.

"I said you would play for the people in the rehabilitation center. I think it would really help them while they are going through their exercise routines. It would take their mind off the pain...help ease their frustration if their recovery is slow," he explained.

"That's a great idea!" she exclaimed. "Of course I'll do it. I will go by there and speak to the nurses the next time I go see the children."

"Great," he said, squeezing her hand.

"You should eat," Izuku prompted her, pushing the plate of untouched food toward her. "You need your strength."

He worried that she might be pushing herself too hard. Her big heart and willingness to help out any way she could might land her in a hospital bed among the people she is trying to help.

Takara suddenly leaned over to kiss Izuku's cheek. Patting where she had placed the kiss, she looked into his eyes and assure him, "I'm fine. Don't worry."

Her actions garnered inquisitive and bumfuzzled stared from their friends sitting at the table with them. The love and affection in her actions did not go unnoticed by any of them. The fact that Katsuki did not commence to pummeling Izuku after the peck befuddled them.

In high school if Izuku even glanced at the hot headed blonde he wanted to beat the hell out of him. Things between them could not have changed that much. Or could they? The friends were beginning to wonder if there was more than friendship going on between the trio by the way they interacted and reacted to each other.

While shoveling in food, oblivious to the curious, furtive glances from across the table, she looked around and waved to their friends seated at the other tables. Seeing Jiro and Denki at one while Momo and Tokoyami were seated nearby at the third table, she decided she would speak to them about getting the band back together for a performance. If Katsuki was willing to take it upon himself to volunteer her for a gig, she would return the favor by organizing a musical reunion among his friends and fellow musicians. Unfortunately, there was no time at the moment and would have to be done later.

For her second performance, Takara appeared on the front stage wearing overalls and a red and white checkered shirt that looked like a tablecloth underneath. Taking her cello from its stand, she spun it on its leg and looked it up and down as if she had never seen it before. She was barefoot, the legs of her overalls rolled up at uneven lengths. Her hair had been pulled up into two high pigtails one on each side of her head and tied with big red bows. Freckles had been painted onto her exaggeratedly blushed cheeks.

Bakugo smiled upon recalling seeing her practice this exact routine. His smile vanished when he saw her male counterpart come out on stage to take his violin from the stand beside her.

The man wore no shirt under his overalls. The undone strap and flipped down bib displayed half of his well built chest for all to see - whether they wanted to see it or not. He wore a floppy straw hat on his head obscuring his face, but he still recognized that man as the one Takara was dancing with earlier in the gangster garb.

Takara pointed at the violin and covered her mouth pretending to hide a smile while laughing exaggeratedly moving her shoulders up and down. She pointed at the violin then her cello before holding up her thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. Pretending to laugh again, she pointed at the violin as if making fun of its small size.

The man raised his bow and played the first notes of the song challenging her to a duel to prove size does not matter when it comes to music. Half way through the song, they put down their instruments while the rest of the orchestra took over playing the music. The two linked arms while facing each other, skipping around in a circle to begin the square dance. Several other people dressed similarly to them joined them on stage along with a square dance caller, a man yelling out in English the moves to perform.

Katsuki had not seen this part of the routine, only the beginning with the dueling cello and violin. She really is a shockingly good dancer who could dance almost anything. A smile of pride split his face.

His mind drifted away to what had occurred after the rehearsal, when he took her away from the conservatory and drove her down to the beach for their picnic. She looked so happy that day. Presently, she looked positively radiant, ecstatic, and overjoyed with a huge grin on her face punctuated by the occasional laugh as she switched partners and do-si-doed her way across the stage.

Seeing her happy made him happy. He was proud to call her his. He couldn't wait for her to meet his parents tomorrow.


End file.
